Movement In The Dark
by Shadarus
Summary: Not succumbing to boredom at the V.A. between missions is often a mission in and of itself. Murdock sets out to discover if a series of power failures have some deeper meaning.
1. A Taste Of Darkness

Chapter One: A Taste Of Darkness

* * *

May 1st

2:17 a.m.

* * *

The beams of two flashlights cut swaths of illumination down the utilitarian shades of the corridor.

"Seriously, I think the wiring in this place has PMS. You ever notice the damn thing shorts out just about this time every month?"

"That's called 'government spending', my friend. This whole place was built on Uncle Sam's dime, and she's got an attitude."

As they passed by door after door, a face peered through the small high-set window in one of them, observing the two men as they walked past. "Ness." he stated matter-of-factly.

The beams swung up and pinned themselves on his face. "'Scuse me?"

"I decided the lady needs a name. I WAS thinking about something classical, like The-All-Powerful-Supreme-Bringer-Of-Night. Then I realized that we'd need something more modern if we're gonna to name a goddess of power-outages. I like Barbara, but I just can't see calling a deity 'Babs'. Then it struck me!" He stepped back from the window for a moment to gesture grandly. "She's the bringer of darkNESS in a place of madNESS... hence, "Ness"!"

The taller of the two orderlies sighed and stepped away as the other rolled his eyes melodramatically. "Murdock, go back to bed. It's the middle of the freaking night. The power'll come back on in a few minutes."

"Killjoys." He turned away from the window and then changed his mind mid-step.

"Have you thought about leaving her offerings? Something to placate her?"

He pretended to ponder deeply.

"How about some AA batteries on a plate or an old power cord with ketchup on it?" He glanced left-and-right down the hallway suspiciously, ducked down from the window, and pushed at the small flap near the bottom of the door, bringing his face close to stage-whisper conspiratorially, "All-powerful beings LOVE ketchup."

"Go. To. Sleep."

"But it's DARK in here! What if the monsters come out from under my bed?

"Murdock, there's no monsters under your bed."

"How d'you know? Have you looked?"

"I don't need to look."

"Well, of course YOU don't need to look, YOU'RE not the one sleeping on top of monsters."

"Murdock..."

The flap clanked shut and the face reappeared at the window.

"And they smell of goat cheese. Really OLD goat cheese."

A few paces down the hallway, the other orderly began to snicker.

"I swear there's no monsters under your bed... we just fumigated for monsters on Tuesday."

Murdock pasted a relieved grin on his face. "Really?"

"Yup. They came in while everyone was at dinner and took care of this whole wing. Guaranteed for six months. No monsters."

"Oh, that's great. That's really great. Thanks guys!"

"No problem. Now get some sleep."

He tossed off a salute. "Okie dokey, Muchacho. I'm on it!"

He sprinted away from the door and took a flying leap, landing belly first on his mattress as the two men lowered their flashlights and continued down the hallway.

Flipping onto his back, he chuckled to himself in the inky blackness.

"Gotta love night shift." he whispered to a spot on the floor. "At least some of THEM are fun. Think they're a little bit looney, myself, spending their nights babysitting the likes of us... but at least they play along. During the day everyone's just SO uptight. Maybe they need counseling."

He winced slightly as the lights in the hallway suddenly came to life, flickering and then steadying with little ticks.

"There, ya see? All it took was someone mentioning a little bitty ritual sacrifice and all's well."

He pulled a blanket over himself and smiled at the empty space he'd been conversing with. "Night Billy."

As he stared at the ceiling he smirked.

"Night Ness."

His only answer was the hum of the flourescent lighting in the hallway.

* * *

Stay tuned after the commercial break to see Murdock hunt up a tasty batch of batteries, ponder the significance of possessed pagers, skirt security, take in a little night air, and start to wonder if maybe there really is something lurking in the shadows of the VA.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Yup, here's the boring stuff, feel free to skip ahead to the next chapter (once it's up), I promise, I won't be offended.  
Standard disclaimer. You're all smart enough to know that the A-Team doesn't belong to me... if it did, you'd all suddenly become my best friends and invite me over for tea every Thursday.  
This fic is going to be very Murdock-centric, taking place almost exclusively during the times in-between missions when he's confined the the dreary existence of the VA hospital and looking for ways to keep himself amused. I will be focusing on both the lighter side AND darker side of living in an institution, so be prepared for a few roller-coaster moments.  
My interpretation of Murdock is that he IS a little bit off his rocker... but is so intelligent and imaginative (and occasionally bored) that he plays it up to the extreme just to keep himself amused and to keep the darker aspects of life at bay. I think the thing I loved most about Dwight Schultz's portrayal of the character is that he was never bad crazy, just FUN crazy!  
Next chapter we're going to see his neighbor at the VA, Leo Behl, who is referenced in the episode "Timber!" as being infamous for his ability to fit an entire jar of peanut butter in his mouth, lid and all, so that should be interesting.  
There IS going to be an OC eventually... so please, I beg you, if she turns into a Mary Sue, PLEASE smack some sense back into me.  
Feel free to leave constructive critisicm (spelling/grammatical errors, continuity problems, just plain out-of-character-ness, and so forth), but if all you're going to say is 'this sucks', then please click that little 'x' in the top right corner of your screen and find something more to your liking. There's plenty of fic out there for everyone.  
Thanks for reading (and reviewing! *bats eyes*) and hopefully I'll be back soon with the next installment!


	2. Thom And Therry

Chapter Two: Thom And Therry

* * *

May 1st

11:37 a.m.

* * *

"Behl, buddy, compadre, kemosabe, it's startin' to smell like the backside of a sick donkey in here. You been hidin' leftovers under your mattress again or do I need to have another chat with the chef about your dietary requirements?"

A grizzled man looked up from where he was peering intently at the underside of his bed, and scowled toothlessly. "Thop yewr grihmmim en behrimg yewr ath owber hehr, ya schnowt. Iths haffimd agaim."

Murdock pulled himself away from where he was leaning in the doorway and sauntered into the room, hands deep in his pockets, watching the man intently. "C'mon, Behl, what's wrong with my grinnin'?"

"Yewr fath lewts likhe tha thouthboumd ehmd of a northboumd Dhobermahn, thath's whaths wromg with iht."

"Y'know, you keep laying on the flattery and I'm gonna ask the doc to move me to the other end of the wing."

The older man shoved a mop of unruly yellowed hair out of his face as he bent back down to continue his inspection.

Murdock shoved aside a jumble of blankets, climbed onto the bed, pulled off his cap, and grabbed the edge of the mattress for support as he swung his head and shoulders over the side to take a gander at what the man was looking at so intently.

"So, what're we hunting for today? Wabbits? If they serve steamed veggies at lunch I'll save my carrots for ya."

The old man steadfastly ignored him. "Thay've behn clawimg uhnder tha behd agaim."

"Again? Did ya try puttin' a circle of salt around the bed like I told ya? I heard once that they're not too big on salt."

"Ah thimk tha lil bathtards lihke tha schtuffth. Dothem't theem ta do ah dahmed thimg."

Righting himself on the bed, Murdock glanced up at a corner of the ceiling and stroked his chin thoughtfully. "You sure it's monsters? Seems to me that I was just talking to someone about it this mornin', and they told me the whole wing had just been fumigated. You ever smell the stuff they use for that? I can't think of any monster that can stand more than a whiff of it."

Behl eyed him suspiciously. "Fhumighated?"

"Yup, did the whole wing on Tuesday while we were feasting on mashed potatoes and jello. You can ask Thompson when he gets on shift tonight, he'll tell ya the same thing."

"Huh. Didm't know thehy couldth do thath."

"You hadn't heard? Modern technology. There's this guy in Russia that came up with some new chemical formula. Y'know, you ain't seen nothin' til' you've seen a RUSSIAN monster, those things get half-again the size of the one's we've got over here. Mean suckers, too."

"Ahl beh dahmed." He scratched at his scalp, dislodging several large flakes of dandruff. "Mehbeh ith wath mithe."

"Well, mice are better than monsters. There's even some nice mice. Mickey Mouse, Mighty Mouse..."

"Thereth thath mouthe frohm Thom an Therry." His brow wrinkled even further. "Cahn'th nebther rehmehmber whith ome ith whith."

Murdock's grin widened. "Tom's the cat and Jerry's the mouse. Just think of 'Tomcat' and it'll stick just fine."

"Huh." He glanced at the empty doorway and then fastened his eyes on Murdock again. "Ah wath thure ith wath monthterth. Theh thaid thith mormim thath tha lighths wehnt outh agaim latht might."

Shoulders slumping slightly, Murdock put out a hand to help the man up from the floor. "C'mon now, would your ol' buddy Murdock let anythin' happen to ya?" His free hand gestured at the far wall. "I'm right next door."

"Ith noth lihke ya cahn geht overh here."

Murdock winked. "Don't you worry, I've got me a friend I've leaned a few tricks from." He squared his shoulders proudly. "I may not be a champion cat-burglar, but I've picked a lock a time or two. Be careful, you might get out of bed one night to answer the call of nature and come back to find I've short-changed your sheets."

Behl made a weak attempt at a smile. "Thmahrt ath."

"Besides, I think I've found a way to solve the problem with the lights. Ever heard of Ness?"

"Neth?"

A twinkle in his eye, Murdock flung an arm across the old man's shoulders. "Don't tell me you've never heard of Ness! Let's take a walk and I'll tell you ALL about her."

* * *

Author's Notes:

A new character, a little development, a peek into the exciting world of V.A. life. Really, what is there to do when you're stuck in an institution other than finger paint and try to keep your fellow crazies from going completely off the deep end?

If all goes as planned, the next installment should see a touch of trouble and possibly even a threat of bodily harm.

On a side-note, if I'd realized ahead of time what a pain in the ass typing Behl's dialogue was going to be, I'd have given the old fart some teeth. Let me know if you get tired of sounding out what he's saying and want me to post a translation.


	3. Technical Difficulties

Chapter Three: Technical Difficulties

* * *

May 18th

11:09 a.m.

* * *

The smell of exhaust enveloped Murdock as Face pulled the 'vette from the curb and merged into the mid-day traffic.

Tugging at the bottom of his bomber jacket, he turned and sauntered down the sidewalk nonchalantly, slowly closing the gap between himself and the large building on the next block.

"Home again, home again, jiggity jig." he muttered under his breath.

A lithe blond smiled at him in passing and he followed her with his eyes appreciatively.

"Still, thing's aren't all bad. Nice weather. Nice view." The blond turned a corner and was lost from sight. "It'll be good to sleep in a bed instead of the van for a change."

Running into Dr. Richter on his way in was a bit of a surprise. "Nyah, what's up, Doc?" he shot out amiably.

"Well, well, if it isn't our most wayfaring patient. How was the, " he paused with a significant look, "experimental therapy convention, or was it a family reunion, or an emergency debriefing of all Vietnam chopper pilots currently under the care of a psychiatrist."

Murdock smirked. "Went great, except they made me wear a tie. I didn't even get one with cartoon characters on it. What kind of tie doesn't have cartoon characters on it, Doc?!?"

Richter returned the smirk. "Well, we're just glad to see you back, safe and sound."

"Don't know whatcher talkin' about, it's not like I do anything INTERESTING when I'm away."

"Hmmm mmmmm." Richter nodded. "I'll be seeing you later, you missed a session yesterday that I want to catch up on."

"No worries, I'm just gonna go grab me some grub while the grubbin's still good."

"I don't know about 'good', I saw what they're serving today and opted for take-out instead."

Murdock laughed. "As long as it's not their infamous Bisc-shits and Gravy, I think I'll survive."

Richter raised a hand and tapped his nose with a finger.

"Uh oh. I think maybe I'm not that hungry after all. I'd like to live long enough to find out what's for dinner." He patted his belly. "Besides, I've got to lose some of this flab."

"Murdock, you lose any more 'flab' and you'll be able to turn sideways and disappear."

"Dunno, I think that might be a handy trait to have once in a while."

Richter chuckled. "Two o'clock in my office. Don't be late."

"Ten-four good buddy."

Taking his leave, Murdock turned right instead of left, heading back towards his room and giving the cafeteria as wide a berth as possible.

It was just past his ward's nurse's station that raised voices caught his attention and caused him to detour.

"Danger, Will Robinson." he quipped. "Someone's woken The Mammoth again."

The mammoth in question had cornered the newest nurse in the break room, and she, apparently, didn't find his over-muscled and over-testosteroned bulk nearly as interesting as he apparently thought she should.

"Everythin' okay in here?"

The Mammoth whipped around and glared. "Everything's just fine, go find a toy train to play with or something."

"Sorry, my choo-choo has a loo-loo of a boo-boo. There any duct tape 'round these parts?"

The nurse shoved a huge paw off of her backside and squirmed away. "I think there's some at the main desk. I'll be right back."

As she disappeared through the doorway, the lanky pilot sized up the man in front of him.

The Mammoth glared at him menacingly. "Just got back, huh?"

"Yup, waltzed in the door just in time to see your latest oscar-winning performance. The part where you implied that you'd make her working hours miserable if she didn't let you feel her up was particularly inspired."

The larger man made a grab for him, but Murdock dodged him deftly, stepped to the side, putting the table between himself and his attacker, and slipped into a pompous British accent. "Now, now, good man, surely you're not going to endanger your livelihood by taking out your petty frustrations upon a patient. It would simply never do."

A scowl was the closest thing he got to a witty retort.

"After all, someone as absolutely abrim with charm and tact as you should have no difficulty gently wooing the fairer sex."

Without warning, The Mammoth grabbed the table and flipped it aside, where it landed with a crash in the doorway. With the barrier removed and his exit effectively blocked, Murdock was able to dodge the next few blows and land one solidly himself before he was grasped forcefully by the front of his jacket and pinned against the wall.

"Hey, you don't think anyone's gonna notice broken furniture and a patient in the infirmary?"

"You've got this bad habit of coming back from these little vacations of yours looking worse than when you left. Who's to say you didn't arrive sporting a few new bruises?"

"Richter saw me on the way in."

"That just means I gotta keep 'em where they wouldn't have shown."

The sound of pounding feet echoed in the hallway and The Mammoth released his grip and stepped back.

"What's going on in here?!?" shouted the orderly who was staring at the two from amidst the wreckage in the doorway. "Sheila just came up to the main desk demanding to be transferred to another wing, I haul my cookies down here to make sure the station's being manned, and I find the break room torn apart. What gives?"

"Nothing. Patient's wandering out-of-bounds and got a little violent when I asked him to leave the break room."

"Patients aren't allowed in here, sir, you're going to have to go back to your room."

Murdock glared at the hulking mass that stood at his side. "No problem, was just on my way out."

The Mammoth grinned unpleasantly. "We'll talk about this later, Murdock. Be a good boy and let this nice man see that you get tucked in safe and sound." The left side of his smile ticked. "See you around."

"I'll make sure to pencil you into my appointment book."

Shoving the table out of the way, Murdock followed the decidedly annoyed orderly down the hall and stalked into his room. The click of the lock just added insult to injury.

He pressed his fingers hard against the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"It's gonna be one of those days."

* * *

Author's Notes:

Ah, nothing like coming back from a mission where you risk life and limb to save people's asses just to find yourself risking life and limb to save someone's ass. The fun just never stops.

Needless to say, we'll be seeing more of our charming behemoth of an orderly as the story progresses.

I want to give a shout-out to my first (and so far, only) reviewer, Cap'n Awesome! Keep an eye out for an upcoming therapy session, Cap'n, I think you might find a little treat in there.

Coming up next: Murdock and Richter have a little chat about friends and foes.

Coming up soon: The Mammoth rears his ugly head again and Murdock holds a conversation with some roofing tiles.


	4. Not Much To Tell

Chapter Four: Not Much To Tell

* * *

May 18th

2:37 p.m.

* * *

"Gerbils. Little bitty ones. They like to hide under the remote control."

Richter eyed the man on the couch bemusedly. "Gerbils."

"Oh, yeah, made the most awful ruckus, kept me up half the night. Traveling's fun, but staying in a hotel room always makes me wonder if the person there before me wiped their feet when they came in. That's how the little guys get inside, ya see. I used to wonder why hotels always screwed the remote for the TV down, and then I saw one of them, scurrying underneath. It's so we don't find out they're under there."

The psychiatrist leaned back in his chair and tapped the end of his pen against his lower lip. "Somehow I get the impression that you're about as concerned about miniature-gerbils as you are about the monsters under your bed."

"Hey, those monsters are persistent! They had to spray the whole ward for 'em a couple of weeks ago."

"Murdock, would you like to know what I think?"

His patient rolled over, cupped his chin in the palms of his hands, and batted his eyes. "Ahm quiverin' in anticipation."

"I think that you're playing along with a certain neighbor of yours so he thinks he's still got someone on his side."

"What, Behl? Aw, nothin' wrong with ol' Behl. If he says there's somethin' movin' around under his bed, I gotta take his word for it. He's older n' wiser than the likes of me. Calls me 'Snot' 'cause he thinks I'm just a snot-nosed kid. Who am I to argue?"

"Do you really think that playing along is going to help him?"

"Can't hurt him any, where do you go from here, right?"

Richter half-smiled. "I suppose you have a point. Although, speaking of hurt, I heard that you had a bit of an adventure earlier."

Murdock flipped onto his back and laced his fingers together over his chest.

"Nothing particularly interestin'."

"Well, tell me the boring bits, then."

"Not much to tell."

"Murdock, if I don't know what's going on, I can't help. The official report says that you 'flew into a violent rage after forcing your way into one of the staff's break rooms'. Doesn't much sound like you, in my opinion. Of course, when you take into consideration which orderly was in the room with you, one starts to wonder if there's a lot more to the story than is being told."

"I'm guessin' there's no word from that pretty little nurse who high-tailed it outta there."

"New kid, doesn't want to make waves. No, and I doubt there'll be one."

"Tell me, Doc, what do ya do with someone who's dumb enough to make everyone's lives miserable, but JUST smart enough to not get caught? None of the staff ever calls him on it, and no one ever listens to what us walking cuckoo clocks have to say."

Richter sighed and shifted in his seat. "Look, unofficially I salute you for trying to be everyone's knight in shining armor..."

Murdock chuckled dryly. "Just call me Cap'n Awesome!"

"... but you already know that officially I can't have any part of it. I can't even put the man on report because I didn't SEE anything."

"So the status quo continues on. The pages turn. The big bad wolf keeps knockin' on the door." He lowered his voice and sang softly. "Big wheel, keep on turnin'. Proud Mary keep on burnin'."

Richter glanced at the clock. "Well, this Proud Mary has another appointment in a few minutes. Anything you want to share with me before then?" He raised his eyebrows pointedly.

"Nah, can't say that anything leaps to mind."

He watched the man peel himself off the consulting couch.

"Just do me a favor and watch your back. He's twice your size and your friends aren't around to keep an eye on you."

Murdock turned with his hand on the doorknob and blinked in exaggerated innocence. "Still don't know whatcher talkin' about, Doc."

* * *

Author's Notes:

I always liked Dr. Richter, he seemed to have a pretty good idea of what was going on, even though he couldn't prove it.

For those of you keeping track, this story starts just about the time second season ends and carries on into the third season (though that's hardly integral to the plot), and therefore we're more than a year away from the episode "The Doctor Is Out", in which Richter finally gets proof of his ongoing suspicions that Murdock is part of the A-Team.

Oh, and now we know why Behl calls Murdock "ya schnowt".

Coming up next: The Mammoth strikes again, I get to type more of Behl's obnoxious dialogue, and Murdock spends some time on the roof.


	5. Tea Party For Two

Chapter Five: Tea Party For Two

* * *

June 5th

4:12 p.m.

* * *

The older man shuffled up and grabbed at the younger man's elbow.

"Iths gowmmah haffim agaim."

"'Bout that time, huh?"

Behl set a tray on the table, pulled back his chair with a scraping sound, lowered himself into it slowly, and set himself to noisily gumming his mashed potatoes.

"Thomewhereh here ihm the metht might ohr thwo. Thehre gethhim clother, ah cam feel ith."

"Would somebody shut the old coot up."

Murdock shot a warning glance across the table. "Now, now, play nice and go back to your mystery meat. What's this stuff suppos'd to be, anyhow?"

"Theh claihm iths thalthbury thteak. Perthonally, ah thimk theh're tryim' tah poithom uth."

Murdock speared his portion and held it up to his face, scrutinizing it closely as half-congealed gravy dripped onto his plate, then shrugged and shoved the entire thing into his mouth at once.

The rest of the table stared at him as he chewed, cheeks fit to burst, mouth half-open, and then swallowed dramatically.

He winked. "What can ah say, boys, ah like to live on the wild side."

"Yewr ah bravth thoul, schnowt."

Pushing back his chair and standing, Murdock took a series of deep bows. "Thank you, thank you, no autographs, please."

He flipped the chair around and straddled it, taking a moment to poke suspiciously at the skin of his chocolate pudding.

"Hey, Behl, you got any tape handy?"

"Thaphe?"

"Masking, duct, electrical, and so forth. Y'know, the stuff that binds the universe together?"

The old man raised a bushy eyebrow. "Mah. Camth thay ah do."

"I need to do a little supply run after dinner. Meet me in your room about half an hour before lights-out."

"Why, whath ya goth ihn mihmd?"

Murdock shot him a knowing smile. "I've got us a plan."

* * *

June 5th

9:48 p.m.

* * *

"Thith isth nether gohmma wohrk."

"Sure it will, I have it on good authority."

Behl watched him as he pulled off a long strip of duct tape and started weaving another layer around the legs of the bed.

"Thath schuppoth tah keep em umther thehre?"

"Absolutely. See, what we do is wrap an impenatrable barrier all the way 'round, doesn't leave 'em an ounce of space anywhere under the mattress for them to climb out from. It's infallable. I even double-layered it, just to be safe."

"Yehr... Yehr schtill gomma do thath thimg weh thalketh abouht, righth?"

"I'm on it. Just need to wait for the shifts to change over, and voila, I'm outta there like a fart in a dust storm."

As Murdock pulled himself back onto this feet, Behl put a gnarled hand on his shoulder. "Ah apprethiath thith, schnowt. Ethehrome elthe looth aht meh lihke ahm ah few quarths thy."

"You are a few quarts shy." he responded, slapping Behl on the back goodnaturedly before turning to leave. "Doesn't mean yer wrong."

"Whell, ef ahm schtill here in tha mormim, we'll kmow eht whorkth."

Murdock shot him a parting glance from the doorway. "Oh, you'll be here. Don't you go thinkin' you can get away from the cafeteria food that easily."

Rough laughter followed him down the hallway as he stepped back into his own room.

"Behl, yer a hoot an' a holler sometimes."

"So how's your boyfriend doing tonight?"

Murdock spun as a lurking hulk stepped forward.

"Hiding behind the door. That's real ingenious of ya. C'mon, yer off in five minutes. Give it a rest."

The Mammoth shoved on the handle and listened to the door slam shut with a solid thunk, a smirk creeping up his face.

"Aw, this IS restful, Murdock. Gotta stop in for a friendly chat with my favorite patient before I take off for the weekend."

"Oh, well in that case, how 'bout some tea and crumpets? I'll break out the cards and we'll play a hand or two of Canasta."

He began to edge away as his uninvited guest moved forward, keeping out of arm's reach.

"Since it's just about shift-change, whaddya say we invite Mackie in, and when they get here we can see if either Thompson or DeRane have a hankerin' to lose their lunch money in a poker game."

"Funny thing about that. DeRane just called to let us know he's running late. Car trouble. Of course, Thompson couldn't get his ass here on time if his life depended on it. Real shame, too, because I decided to have Mackie knock off early tonight. Guess it's just you and me this time around."

Murdock was running out of room but The Mammoth wasn't letting him circle any closer to the door.

"Aw, that is a shame, I have a new tea set that I've been wantin' to break in."

"Don't worry, I'm sure I can think of something to help pass the time."

"Oh, ya don't have to go out of your way for little ol' me."

A high-pitched beeping caused The Mammoth to growl and grab at his belt. He wrestled the pager off and glared at it, jabbing the button impatiently.

"Goddammit! Saved by the bell, boyscout, this is becoming a nasty habit." He glared significantly. "Don't worry, we'll have our little card game later."

As he barged out of the room and locked the door behind him, Murdock could just make out a voice in the distance. "Where the hell is everybody? Admin's already having shit fits about stations going unmanned. At this rate you idiots are gonna put your asses in a sling."

Murdock sighed, grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair, and fished a set of lockpicks out of a pocket before slipping it on. "They say luck favors children and fools. I owe ya one, Thompson."

On his way to the door he scooped up his portable cassette player, popped open the battery compartment, and slid two AA's out. "Sorry, Ol' Blue Eyes, looks like you're gonna be takin' a nap, Behl needs these used for somethin' more important than me hearin' you croon "My Way". I think it's time to take in some night air before Lady Luck decides to stop smilin' on me."

* * *

Author's Notes:

First off, a big thank you to seastarr, who joins Cap'n Awesome as a stalwart reviewer!

Secondly, my little story has racked up over 100 hits so far! Sure, I know a lot of those are duplicates as people stop by again to take a peek at the new chapters, but it still looks absolutely wonderful on the screen! Give yourselves a round of applause!

I had intended for this chapter to include the next scene, as Murdock takes refuge on the roof, but I'm having some computer issues. Growling at machinery doesn't exactly do much to encourage my muse, so you'll have just a little bit more of a wait. Don't worry, we'll get there eventually.


	6. Chanting

Chapter Six: Chanting

* * *

June 5th

10:07 p.m.

* * *

Murdock breathed a sigh of relief as the lock finally clicked. He stowed the lock picks back in their case and shoved them deep into his pocket.

Pushing the door open, the antiseptic smell and dreary muffledness of the V.A. gave way to the sweet taste of night air, the sound of traffic on the street below, and the soft chirping of crickets.

He crammed his cap in between the door frame and the latch to keep it from locking itself behind him and surveyed the rooftop.

The moon cast just enough illumination for him to make out the few landmarks that dotted the otherwise barren stretch, and skirting around the imposing bulk of building's air conditioning unit he strode up to a squat structure, about 3 by 3 feet wide that barely came up to his calves. A padlock secured the access hatch it contained, and Murdock slapped it solidly with his open palm, smiling at the solid thud the heavy metal made.

"You'll do nicely."

He sat himself down on it, wincing as the cold bit into his backside, crossed his arms over his chest, and settled himself in to observe the V.A.'s parking lot.

He couldn't see his watch in the dim light, but he figured that at least twenty minutes went by before he caught sight of headlights turning in. The lights solidified into an old pick-up truck that had definitely seen better days, and it sputtered obnoxiously before the engine finally hushed. DeRane dove out, heading for the entrance, and cursing so loudly that Murdock didn't even bother to suppress a grin.

A few minutes later, The Mammoth barreled out the door and into the lot, his entire body radiating annoyance, and squeezed himself into a tiny vehicle that leaned distinctly to one side when he slid into the driver's seat. He gunned the motor, and sped out of the parking lot with the distinctive squeal of abused tires.

"Good riddance to bad rubbish. Now, let's see what we can do about gettin' this show on the road."

He stood and stretched, easing the chill and stiffness from his muscles, then reached into his pocket and pulled out the batteries he'd stashed there, shifting one of them into his other hand so that one pressed against each palm as he grasped them tightly.

Turning to face the short platform, he bowed deeply, then raised his arms to the night sky and began chanting in a low voice.

"Oh, great and powerful Ness, harbringer of darkness, herald of power outages, I beseech thee! I, Howling Mad Murdock, a poor pitiful mortal, ask you to look upon me and show pity. Bring not the blackness. Bring not the terror it inspires. I am here to set forth an offering, a sacrifice, a token to appease your wrath."

He squared his shoulders and strode purposefully up to the hatch, deftly placing the two small cylinders upon it, and then stepped backwards again to a respectful distance.

"I beg of thee, Ness, look favorably upon me. Accept this feast of power and drink not from the well this night! Show mercy, and-"

There had been a noise. Brief. Dull. Low. Something almost felt more than heard. But distressingly close.

He paused for a moment and glanced around, right hand reaching up to rub absently at the back of his neck.

"Hello?"

He listened intently.

"Hey, if there's somebody up here, you can come out. I'm not gonna hurt ya. I'm just... Well, I may be one of the crazies, but, hey, I promise it's the good kind of crazy."

Two cars passed by, several stories below, and the sound of several people talking loudly, probably just starting a night out, drifted in from out of sight down the block.

But there, on top of the world, was silence.

"Well, if there is somebody listenin', could ya do something about the lights goin' out? Y'see, I've got this friend, name of Behl, and he's real skitterish. He, uh, he thinks there's monsters comin' for him, swears he hears 'em under his bed sometimes, and when the power goes out he gets it into his head that it means they're on their way."

He chuckled self-depreciatingly.

"I, uh, told him that there's this goddess of power outages. Made him think it'd be okay if we made her an offerin' or somethin'." He gestured at the AA's sitting on the access hatch. "I was out of fresh batteries, so I pulled these from my stereo." He smiled apologetically. "They're mostly new."

He waited so long that the distant chirping began to weave itself once more into the night air.

Turning slowly, he headed back towards the door.

He stopped, right hand nearly touching the doorknob, and cautiously looked over his shoulder, peering into the darkness.

"Okay, I give up." he shouted. "C'mon, now, I know somebody's out there. You've got the hairs on the back of my neck standin' on end."

The crickets hushed themselves again at the sound of his voice as he listened to the almost tangible quiet.

Striding quickly from the door, he paced the perimeter, eyes sweeping left and right for any sign of another's presence.

The dim contours of the roof remained undisturbed. At each corner he peered over the edge, verifying that no one was clinging to any of the window ledges. Nothing lurked behind his make-shift shrine, the short stubby vent through which the heat escaped the kitchen during the day, the huge a/c unit, or the boxy structure that comprised the top of the stairwell.

Absolute desolation.

He finished his circuit and finally opened the door, peering down the hallway, greeted with nothing but a stretch of locked offices and dreary carpeting.

"Damnedest thing."

He closed the door behind him quietly, settled his cap on his head, and began skulking back to his own room.

* * *

Author's Notes:

I want to take a moment and welcome DMandNCISFan, who joins Cap'n Awesome and seastarr on my wonderful 'reviewers' list! I hope all of you have been enjoying the story!

Don't worry, DM, I've got plans for The Mammoth slowly simmering on a back burner. *evil laughter*

While recently perusing the 'new' features on this site, I learned the difference between 'hits' and 'visitors' here on FFDN, which is an awesome function that wasn't around the last time I posted a fic here (back in 2007), so I'm totally excited to see my stats slowly inch up each day!

I'm also amazed that we can now take a peek at WHERE our readers are visiting from! I was especially pleased to see that I even had someone stopping by from the Netherlands, since I had just finished composing a scene (I write scenes as they spring to mind and then incorporate them later into chapters as we reach that point in the story arc.) where Murdock has a chat with Richter about visiting that country! How's that for a strange coincidence?

Coming up next: Murdock's suspicions that there might actually be something going bump in the night begin to take shape.


	7. Who Ya Gonna Call?

Chapter Seven: Who Ya Gonna Call?

* * *

June 6th

1:42 p.m.

* * *

Murdock peered out the window in the door of his room, surveying the empty hallway, then strode briskly to his bedside table, scooping up the telephone's handset and spinning out a series of digits on the rotary dial.

"Bonjour, Visage, comment allez-vous ce jour beau?"

He smiled at the garbled response on the other end of the line.

"Aw, did I wake ya up? Blond, brunette, or redhead?"

There was a pause and then Murdock laughed. "Well, they do say that they have more fun. Whatcha doin' later?"

"Ah. Don't suppose you wanna grab up a second ticket for your ol' pal, huh?"

"Oh, and I take it that it's already spoken for?"

The pause as he listened to the voice on the other end was longer this time.

"Geez, Facey, now you just need to scoop up a brunette to round out the evening and you'll have an entire set."

He responded to the laughter at the other end of the line with a smirk.

"No, no, it's fine. Just thought we could grab a burger or somethin'."

"Yeah, tomorrow would be great. No, wait, how about the day after? There's a movie coming out I've been wantin' to see, bunch of guys runnin' around and bustin' ghosts. Looks like fun."

"Fantastic! You'll love it, I promise. Hey, can you do your ol' buddy a favor? I'm out of batteries and hankerin' for some tunes. Help an ol' friend out?"

"Oh, and I need a flashlight."

"Nah, I've just been thinkin' about putting on a show for the guys here, shadow puppets. I need to work on my Woody Woodpecker."

"Brilliant, I've got a session in a few minutes, so just leave 'em at the front desk, I'll get 'em. See ya in a couple days."

* * *

June 6th

2:39 p.m.

* * *

Murdock flung himself around the office in a whirlwind of activity.

"He dodges left, he dodges right, he pushes past me and leaps on top of the nurse's station. He pulls back his arm and shouts, "Catch!" and flings the thing at me like he's hoping we'll score a touchdown."

"Oh, no."

"I let it fly over my head, it hits the far wall, ricochets off the water cooler, and rolls under a chair. This guy looks at me with this total hang-dog expression and whines, "Dammit, Murdock, you didn't catch it! How often do you get to play a game of hot potato with an actual potato?", and I jus' look at him and say, "Bernie, that's not a potato.""

The man watching him tried his best to stifle his laughter, and failed miserably. "Do I EVEN want to know?"

"Probably not, you'll sleep better at night."

It took a moment for the Doctor to catch his breath, and Murdock filled the time by hopping down from the desk and slinging himself onto the therapist's couch.

"So," Richter managed to get out, breathing heavily, "anything else interesting been going on lately?"

The younger man shrugged.

"Don't suppose we could have a stroke of luck and get our favorite orderly transferred to another wing, eh Doc? That'd definitely be something worth talkin' about."

"Administration letting one of the few people that don't balk at being assigned over here get away? They're just thrilled that they've got four leads that actually show up for work. It's bad enough Admin has to fill in their days off with part-timers, new recruits, and orderlies borrowed from the other wings just to make sure their bosses don't come down on them for under-staffing." Richter shrugged apologetically. "I can put in a request, but there's not exactly a huge line of people clamoring to get posted to the psych ward."

Murdock sighed dramatically. "Well, a boy can dream."

"I suppose it's not much consolation that you only have to deal with him four days a week? One of the perks of being a regular is getting first dibs on the twelve hour shifts, and our leads sure seem to like their long weekends."

Murdock decided a subject change was in order. "Hey, Doc, while I'm feelin' inquisitive, you heard anything about the lights goin' out in the middle of the night?

"I've heard a couple of people express concern and I know of a few patients that find it unnerving. Seems to always happen when most everyone's asleep, though, and it's hardly a daily occurrence. Why do you ask?"

"I dunno. It just feels like somethin's up. Almost like clockwork, and I've-" He paused for a moment. "You ever get the feeling somethin's watchin' ya when there's nobody around?"

"So we're going to go from monsters hiding under your bed to ghosts haunting the building? Murdock..." he finished with a hint of exasperation.

"No, it's nothin' like that. At least, I don't think it is. It's just gotten under my skin a lil', is all."

"You need a hobby. Why don't you join in with the residents taking that art therapy class, maybe spend some time in the library room, or get a few people together and put on a play. You're certainly dramatic enough."

"I've got a hobby, Doc. I just can't seem to get enough people to sign off on the petition lobbying for a helicopter pad to be installed on the roof. I've already read everything in the library, includin' this truly atrocious cookbook from the 50's that relishes in showcasin' the wonders of encasing rump roast and tuna fish in gelatin. I swear I could just HEAR the side-dishes shoutin', "For the love of God, get us outta here!" 'Sides," he finished, casting a knowing look at the man, "can you really see Behl playing Juliet?"

Richter smirked. "No, I can't say that would go over too well."

* * *

June 6th

3:12 p.m.

* * *

"Hey, flyboy, mail call."

He grinned. "Hey, Mackie, what's shakin'?"

The orderly smiled and handed over a cardboard box. Murdock took it and wiggled one of the opened flaps. "You been readin' my mail again, kid? That's not nice."

"You know we have to. Can't have you guys smuggling in anything that's going to get you into trouble."

"So that's why the mail-order bride I sent for a few months back never arrived, huh?"

Mackie shot him a grin as he smirked and headed back to his room.

When he got there, he looked through the box's contents. One heavy-duty flashlight, with two C cells already inside, a 24 pack of AA's, and a t-shirt with "A man, a plan, a canal - PANAMA!" emblazoned on it.

"Good ol' Facey." he whispered to himself, and dumped everything except the pack of batteries onto his bed. Carefully tearing off a corner of the packaging, he extracted two of them and rummaged through his bedside table for his cassette player. Sliding off the battery door, he stopped and eyed the device critically.

The battery compartment was no longer empty.

* * *

Author's Notes:

The segment in French is just Murdock saying, "Hello, Face, how are you this fine day?" (Or, at least, something to that effect.) I love how Murdock will occasionally spout out something foreign (usually while he and Face are pulling a scam), and I wanted to drop in a little tribute to those scenes. I don't speak the language, and had to rely on a translation website, so if I got it wrong, please let me know so that I can change it.

On a more Twilight-Zone-esque note: When writing the scene where Murdock's on the phone making plans with Face, I decided that I'd have a bit of fun and drop in some reference to the movie they were going to see. A little voice in the back of my brain immediately screamed, "Ghostbusters! You've TOTALLY gotta use Ghostbusters!" This is, of course, not only an awesome film, but something I can easily see Murdock wanting to go see, but I also realized that I had to make it fit within the time-line of the story, so I prepared to hunker down and embark a quest to find something that WOULD have been in theaters in June of 1984.

I tossed the idea out to my other half, who actually thought that 1984 sounded about right for Ghostbusters. She pulled up IMDB and did a little research. Turns out that the film hit theaters on June 8, 1984, meaning that it came out ONE DAY OFF from the date I'd originally picked to have Face and Murdock go to the movies. All I had to do was adjust the dialogue slightly and it fit PERFECTLY. Heck, when the chapter title "Who ya gonna call?" popped into my head I actually laughed out loud. I couldn't have come up with a better way to introduce a chapter that begins with a phone call if I'd tried.

I'm definitely getting a hefty dose of real-world weirdness while writing this fic, I can't wait to see what happens next.

Oh, and for those of you who missed the significance of the t-shirt design, "A man, a plan, a canal - PANAMA!" is a palindrome, which means that it says the same thing backwards as it does forwards. (Go ahead, read it in reverse, I'll wait.) Needless to say, it totally struck me as something Murdock would wear, just to see if anyone 'gets' it.


	8. Mechanical Difficulties

Chapter Eight: Mechanical Difficulties

* * *

June 7th

1:56 p.m.

* * *

"Thimk it'll be tomight?"

"Dunno, Behl. I went up there last night, had a lovely conversation with our Lady Of Darkness, hopefully she's in a good mood and'll let it slide this time."

"Here'th hopin'. Weh're juth abouth due agaim."

"I put on a pretty good performance for ya. Up there on the rooftops, chantin' at the stars, ravin' like a lunatic."

"Yew ahre ah lunathic."

"That's beside the point."

Behl chuckled. "Glad no ohne schpotted ya uhp there. Beh kinda hard to ethplaim."

"Nah, I'm too sneaky. 'Sides, nobody goes up there at night. Nothin' at the end of the buildin' where the stairwell has roof access 'cept the doctor's offices, and last I checked, none of the doc's schedule therapy for the wee hours of the mornin'."

"Ah've beem thimkim, schnowt, maybe ith nowt momthterth."

"Now we're talkin'!" He clapped the old man on the back. "I've been tellin' ya, there's nothin' to worry about."

"Ith Carloth."

"Who's Carlos?"

"Uth to beh thith maimtememth guy, dohm't thimk ya eber meth him, muthta behn bethore yer thime. Hadth ah fire dowm im the bathememt, lithle roomth dowm there, comcrethe wallth. Middle of hith shifth, findth himthelth schtuck ihn ome of 'em, flamth creepim im, feedim ofth ahl tha recordths they'd beem thtorim dowm there fer yearth. Heard he wenth from schmohke imhalathon, buht by the thime they goth him outh, he wath curled up lihke he wath schleepim im hith mommath belly. Had ta mothe uth ta amother wimg while they fixthed the plathe uhp agaim."

"Now you're startin' to sound like the Doc. He was talkin' about ghosts yesterday."

"Doc thimks ith Carloth, too?"

"No, I'm just saying that it came up. I was tellin' him that I felt like someone was watchin' me last night-"

"Wathchim ya? Thee, ah thold ya thomethimg's goim ohn!"

"He was just teasin'. It's fine."

"Thure, ith ahl fime ahmd damdy whem yewr nowt the ome with ah burmt outh corpthe comim to vithit!"

"Tell me somethin' about Carlos. Was he a nice guy?"

"Wehl, yeth."

"They why are ya worried 'bout his stickin' around? Seems to me that nice people would make nice ghosts."

Behl pondered that and nodded resignedly. "Yew ether theem ome?"

"Behl, I'm seein' stuff all the time. Who knows what's rollin' around in my head."

"Theriousthly."

Murdock pondered for a moment, then leaned back and gazed at nothing over Behl's shoulder.

"Once upon a time, back in the day, I had a run-in with somethin' that was a lil' bit strange," he chuckled, "even for me. Was flyin' this scrap-heap of a bird, musta kissed the ground a dozen times 'fore I ever got a hold of 'er, sweetest little lady, but I swear she was put together with scavanged parts and bailin' wire. We were flyin' at night over the ocean, nestled together in the pitch black, so dark outside the windows that you couldn't tell where sky ended and water begun."

"There I am, flyin' on instruments, wishin' there was a moon that night 'cause when I'm up there I wanna feel like I'm soarin', not stuffed into a lil' box, when my altimeter goes haywire. The numbers start rollin' up and down like I'm sendin' the lady through loops when I'm steady on the stick. I tap it a few times, start running through the checklist in my head, hopin' she'll behave, and then resign myself to callin' the nearest tower to report instrument failure."

"Nicest man comes on, tells me I'm startin' to lose alititude a bit, starts relaying me my numbers from his readouts. I've still got everything other than my altimeter, but he spends the next twenty minutes keepin' me from kissin' the Pacific." He winked. "I mean, I'm all for a lil' romance, but I don't think that's a relationship I wanted to persue just then."

"Guy stays on with me until I get a visual on the airport, has me circle 'round to an open runway, gives me clearance... and then just goes silent. Dead air, like my radio's not even on. I'm thinkin' it's the damndest breach of protocol, but now that I can see the runnin' lights I can guide her in easy as you please."

"I'm just bringin' her to a stop, perfect landin', when on all sides emergency crews haul up, light's flashin', guys jumpin' out like they're expectin' me to explode at any given second. When my feet hit the tarmac, two of 'em scramble over to me, one of 'em checkin' me out and the other grillin' me. Askin' for details, assessin' the situation, actin' like they've no idea what my narrow ass is even doin' there."

"Thinkin' I've got myself a couple of rookies panicking, I laugh 'em off and tell 'em everythin's fine, just lost altimeter readin's and had to make a pit stop so someone could talk some sense into the girl."

"Mister Grillin' scowls at me like I'm somethin' he's needin' to scrap off the bottom of his shoe, and says, "You could at least have contacted the tower. We've been trying to reach you since we spotted you heading our way.""

"Now I'm feelin' good, bringin' down a sick bird in one piece, and I'm startin' to look at him like he's a few players short for a game of solitaire. "Look, mister, I don't know who you've been talkin' to, but I've been chattin' with the tower for nearly half an hour now. Nice guy, clipped accent, sounded like he's pulled in his fair share of wayward birds. I think someone's been pullin' your leg.""

"He grabs my arm and starts to haul me away, raisin' a ruckus, and says, "I don't know what you're trying to pull, but I've been in the control tower all night. I just spent the last half-hour listening to them try to raise you. We never heard a word."

Behl's raised his eyebrows. "Didth yew geth amother towher or somthimg? Ah thought they were suppothed to hanth yew oth?"

"That's an idea we were tossin' around afterwards, whole thin' was a giant mess, took two days of sortin' out before they even let me back on board. We were wonderin' if some tower-jockey got it into his head to play cowboy, but none of the other airports in radio range had record of my callin' in. Then we got the report in from the crew they had workin' on the little lady." He sat up and looked Behl in the eyes. "Seems as though that night was the night that all the bailin' wire finally started to unravel. It wasn't just my instruments that were goin' crazy... my radio was nothin' but a big ugly paperweight. Last transmission they had from me was shortly after take-off."

* * *

Author's Notes:

First off, a warm welcome to Belker, my latest new reviewer!

I'm so glad everyone who's taken the time to drop me a note has been enjoying the story!

I don't know the first thing about flying, other than watching some of those documentaries about plane crashes and barely averted disasters, so if you have enough experience to help me correct any glaring flaws, I'd appreciate it. I tried to keep the details vague enough to not write myself into a corner but solid enough to keep the story flowing. The way I figure it, you can't have a Murdock story without at least ONE interesting flying segment, right?

Sorry this one took so long to post, my plot bunnies keep trying to outpace me.

I had most of this fic outlined before I even started, and because of this I sometimes jump ahead if I get an idea for fleshing out a scene.

To give you an idea of how evil those plot bunnies are, this fic will *crosses fingers* end up being twenty-nine chapters long, and as of this posting I already have most or all of chapters 12, 13, 16, 17, 18, 20, 23, 27, 28, and 29 done.

*whew*

Now I just have to connect the dots.

Coming up next: Behl gets a present.

Coming up soon: Murdock does a little exploring.


	9. Gotcha!

Chapter Nine: Gotcha!

* * *

June 8th

9:39 p.m.

* * *

"Where tha hell hath yew behn? Yew droppeth off tha fath of the earth lasth might."

"Had a friend show up early and decided to play hooky. We had ourselves a sleep-over and caught a movie. Ya miss me?"

"Ammoyth tha hell outta tha schtath whem ya do that, y'know."

"Hey, I'm just a wild an' crazy guy. Sometimes ya gotta go with the flow, roll with the punches, and grab life by the horns."

Behl shook his head. "How wath tha fihlm?"

"Brilliant, jus' about climbed under my seat when this ghost in the library suddenly turned on the guys and I managed to spill popcorn all over my friend's suit. He told me that I'd be gettin' his dry-cleanin' bill." He laughed. "Then I made him watch it with me again before I'd leave the theater."

"Schoumth lich ya two had a good thime."

"That we did."

"Thith tha thame mythteriouth friemd thath's alwayth brimgim schtuth ihn fer ya?"

"Yup, one and the same."

"Thell him thamk ya fer me, woulth ya?"

Murdock raised an eyebrow. "What, for gettin' rid of me overnight? Behl, you can't be that tired of my company."

The old man cackled. "No, schnowt, fer tha prethent."

"What present?"

Behl reached over and plucked a bizarre home-spun contraption off his nightstand. Murdock took it from him and turned it over in his hands, trying to make heads or tails of the device.

"It's an electric colander!" he exclaimed suddenly. "It slices, it dices, it drains pasta in two point six seconds flat!"

Behl wheezed in appreciation. "Ihth ah schtar mathime! Yer friemd mahde iht fer me am lefth iht at tha fromt desk yethterday. Thee what iht doeth!" He flicked a small switch on the machine and shuffled over to the wall to turn off the overhead lighting. The room was suddenly awash with pinpricks of white, scaling the walls and playfully dotting the ceiling.

"A star machine, I'll be damned."

"Iht workth perthectly! Tha lighth wehnt outh agaim lath might, buht ah didm't hath ta worry, keepth ehm outh, ya thee! Didm'th he thell ya?"

"No, he didn't say a word. Behl, what makes you think he made this for ya?"

"Themt ah card." He whisked it off the nightstand and handed it over proudly.

Undeniably curious, Murdock picked up the folded piece of paper and read the contents.

"Do you know why they hide under your bed at night? It's because they're afraid of the stars. ~Murdoch's Friend"

"Ahd thimk yer friemd would know how ta thpell yer nahme right, though." Belh remarked snidely.

"What can I say, I always pick the weird ones." Murdock answered distractedly. He held up the card. "Can I keep this?" he asked.

"Thure."

"Thanks." Murdock slid it into the pocket of his jacket and slipped into his room before lights out, quietly plotting another night-time excursion.

* * *

June 8th

11:36 p.m.

* * *

He tucked the flashlight under his chin and fumbled for several minutes, trying to pick the lock in the unsteady light. When it finally succumbed, he set it and the lockpicks down beside him, settled the flashlight firmly in his hand, and, slipping his long fingers through one of the small holes at the hatch's leading edge, lifted it with a grunt. He swung it wide and it propped itself open at an angle, cutting off his view of the top of the stairwell in the distance as he angled the flashlight down into the hole.

It stabbed a path of illumination before it, and he ran the light down a series of metal rungs that ended several stories below.

The a/c unit peeking out above the roofline was just the tip of the iceberg, the space below him opened up into a ten-by-ten foot shaft, it's walls cluttered with a thick smorgasboard of machinery. Pale green access panels were sealed shut against the elements, the walls were peppered with ducts to channel the air being pulled from above, and pipes stretched down or cut lengthwise across the walls and into conduits, slithering their way into the main building. Finally his eyes rested where the beam exposed the concrete flooring.

"I'll be. The wrong person gets himself in here one day and they could shut the whole buildin' down. Hit a few buttons, turn a few wheels, and it'd be a hundred and ten inside and suddenly none of the toilets flush." He giggled to himself and said in a deep announcer's voice. "Welcome to the Master Control Room, please watch your step and stay away from any shiny red buttons, no matter how tempting they may appear."

He slid the end of the flashlight into his mouth, gripping it solidly with his teeth, and hefted himself over the side, palms slapping the rungs as he decended.

At the bottom, there was only the musty smell of old rain and even older concrete. He swung the flashlight's beam around the enclosed space, covering the distance between the walls in a few strides, shining the light into nooks and crannies, and grimaced. "Not much to write home about, though. Not even space to slide behind anything if someone came lookin' for ya. Why would you even be down here, buddy? Why go through all that trouble just to play with the lights? And how the hell did you lock it up behind ya?"

He sighed to himself. "If you were even here. For all I know, there really are monsters under Behl's bed and we've been gettin' presents from some twisted cousin of the Tooth Fairy."

With the flashlight between his teeth again, he hauled himself back up to the roofline, the square of night sky getting larger as he ascended.

At he reached the top rung, he grasped it with one hand and set the flashlight on the edge of the opening with the other, knowing it would take concentration and both hands to pull himself safely over the cusp and back onto the roof. He reached his free hand out to grab the concrete edge and started hauling himself upwards, bracing a foot on the front of the nearest access panel for one final spot of leverage.

But when he found himself back on the roof, he didn't immediately stand, and instead stared back at the opening, pondering. He leaned over the edge and stretched out his hand, placing it firmly on the panel near the top and giving it a solid push.

It bent inward slightly under the pressure with a quiet "thump."

He eased off, and the panel sprang back again under his palm with another soft "thump."

Staring at it, a beautific grin spread across his face.

It was the same dull noise he'd heard that first night.

"Gotcha."

Grinning like a fool, he stood and eased the hatch back into place, slipping the padlock back onto its metal ring.

Rasing his voice, he said, "Well, it's bed-time for me, gotta hit the sack.", then sauntered over to the door that marked the top of the stairwell.

Pausing for a moment half in and half out of the doorway, he eyed the empty roof-line, smiling, and shouted. "And just so you know, Murdock's spelled with a CK at the end."

* * *

Author's Notes:

Well, well, it would seem that something's definitely afoot.


	10. Once More Unto The Breach

Chapter 10: Once More Unto The Breach

* * *

June 9th

2:28 p.m.

* * *

"So, I hear we've solved one of our little problems."

Murdock smiled widely from where he was reclining on the couch. "You mean Behl?"

"We had a session earlier, and though I can't tell you what was said, I'm pretty sure you can take an educated guess."

"I talked to him before I came over here. He's lookin' like he's finally started sleepin' through the nights."

"Says you had a hand in it."

Murdock shrugged dismissively. "Well, not so sure about that, Doc, sometimes things just happen."

Richter cast a glance his way, took a deep breath, and continued on cautiously.

"Well, while things are 'just happening', how about we talk about our other ongoing problem?"

Murdock's grin sank away for a brief moment before he adopted a nonchalant smile. "Aw, it's not really a problem, more of an ongoin' annoyance."

"I don't suppose there's any chance of you making peace with our favorite orderly?"

All traces of the smile faded as Murdock stood up and started pacing the room with more than a hint of agitation, gesturing broadly.

"C'mon, Doc, the guy's got a face like a plane crash, the charm of a latrine, and a mean streak a mile wide. He makes like he's the golden boy with anyone important and bullies everyone else when he knows no one's lookin'. You can't make peace with people like that, just tryin' makes 'em think they've finally got the upper hand, and then you've really gotta keep your guard up."

"So what are you going to do?"

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he answered, "Same thing I've been doin'. He won't make a move if anyone's watchin', and I make sure we don't cross paths when there's not. He'll either get tired of playin' around and give it up, or he'll get tired of playin' around and finally do something he'll get sacked for."

Richter pondered silently, then determinedly reached over and turned off the tape recorder at his side.

"Murdock, if anyone asks, I never said this, but you know there's nothing I can do as long as this guy's playing it straight in front of right people." He paused significantly. "And I know you have connections."

Murdock stopped his pacing and eyed him warily. "I don't have any connections."

"Well, if you did have connections, I'd rather see something done about him before you get hurt and not after. You keep putting yourself in harm's way whenever you think someone needs you, and in your mind, everyone needs you."

"Not everyone, just the one's that can't take care of themselves as well as I can."

"And you can take care of yourself, is that what you're saying?"

Pulling his hands from his pockets, he swept off his cap and ran a hand back through his hair. Taking a shaky breath, Murdock tried to put the thoughts running through his head into words. "Doc, everywhere I go there's someone lookin' out for me. When I'm in here it's you, and Mackie, and DeRane, and Thompson. Out there... Well, if I did have connections, maybe sometimes I'd prefer knowing that I don't need them to wipe my nose every time somethin' doesn't go my way. I can handle this guy, he's small time."

"This isn't a scraped knee, Murdock, I've been watching the man and I've seen the look he has in his eyes before. To be honest, I'd rather have him locked up in one of those rooms than you."

Murdock looked at Richter for a long moment.

"You know what I like about you, Doc?"

"What's that?"

"You remind me of Woody Woodpecker." He let out the trademark laugh at the top of his lungs.

"Murdock, don't change the subject."

"I'm not changin' the subject, we're talkin' about Woody Woodpecker. How can you not love Woody, we're talking about a guy originally voiced by Mel Blanc here! Hey, you ever see the one where Woody sneaks into a baseball game?"

Richter sighed resignedly, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Can't say that I have."

Murdock grinned maniacally and started tearing around the office, re-creating the episode scene-by-scene as an overly-energetic one-man show, until Richter was finally rescued by a knock on the door from his next appointment.

* * *

June 9th

3:02 p.m.

* * *

As soon as he shut the door behind him, Murdock leaned back against the wall and rubbed at the tension building in the back of his neck. "Damn, and things were goin' so well."

He rolled his neck in the hopes of staving off the headache he felt edging its way in. "Thing is, ya know he's right. The guys would kill ya if they found out you hadn't filled 'em in at the first sign of trouble." He chuckled dryly. "Hell, B.A. would probably mount my head on the wall with a nice shiny lil' plaque. 'Fool Who Thought He Had Something To Prove'. I should write 'em a note, let 'em know I wanna be up there wearin' my Captain Bellybuster cap."

He peeled himself off the wall and stalked towards the stairwell, intending to head back down to the first floor and to his room for some solitude, but something had been nagging quietly in the back of his head all morning. Standing on the landing, he looked up at the underside of the steps leading to the floors above.

Resolutely, he began to climb.

Pressing his ear to the door at the top, he listened for movement on the other side, then set to work. He had it unlocked in a matter of moments. "You're gettin' entirely too good at this." he whispered to himself as the knob turned freely under his hand. Easing it open slowly, he took in the empty roof and then slid himself out of the building.

Keeping himself low, he made his way once again to the maintenance hatch.

He crouched down in front of it and eyed the padlock. "You were in there, I know you were in there. Now, how'd you get in and out with that padlock secured, ya crafty devil?"

He grasped it firmly, giving it a yank, but it remained steadfast in its determination to remain tightly locked.

"There's gotta be a trick." He turned his attention to the hatch itself, running his hands over the surface, focusing his attention on the small holes at the nearest edge, placed there to give personnel a way to lift the heavy slab of metal. Grasping the lock once more, he began to spin it around the metal ring it was affixed to, finally finding an angle where, when upside down, the lock lined up with one of the holes.

"Clever, buddy, very clever. Be a pain in the ass, but it can be done."

He pulled the lock-picks from his pocket. "Me, I'll settle for being able to pick it again from the outside."

It was still giving him trouble, even with the help this time of direct sunlight, but he coaxed it open eventually. He laid it on the roof, well away from the edge, knowing he'd spend an hour finding it again amongst the machinery if it were knocked down the access shaft and that it wouldn't be secure in his pocket if he was going to be doing the crawling he expected. He hoisted himself once more into the waiting maw and lowered the metal door behind him.

"Let's see what's down here that's worth learnin' that lil' trick for."

He lowered himself down the rungs, wishing he'd thought to bring the flashlight, knowing that the few rays of sunlight sneaking in wouldn't reach the places he expected to find himself.

At the bottom, he dug through his pockets, one by one, until he found what he was looking for.

"Y'know, B.A. always made fun of me for carrying you around when I don't smoke, but I'm tellin' ya, when the Colonel wants a light, the Colonel gets a light."

He flicked the lighter, and held it above his head, peering at the wall before him. About ten feet up was an opening, pipes running along one side, leading further into the building. He slowly lowered the flickering flame and scanned the surface beneath the conduit intently. After less than a minute, the lighter was getting too hot to hold, but by then he'd found what he was looking for.

Scuff marks on the wall, about halfway between the floor and the hole above him.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Okay, I lied, it's going to be thirty chapters. The exploration I'd planned to complete in chapter ten required so much descriptive text that it ended up running more than twice the length of any of my earlier chapters, therefore I'm splitting it into two parts so that everyone can take a breather half-way through.

On the plus-side, you don't have to translate a single sentence of Behl-speak!

Now, I think the sane thing for Murdock to do would be to take Richter's advice. Of course, if he had his head on straight all the time, he wouldn't be there, would he?

On a final note, all hail Wikipedia and YouTube for helping out a little authoress who hadn't seen a Woody Woodpecker cartoon in decades.


	11. A Light At The End

Chapter 11: A Light At The End Of The Tunnel

* * *

June 9th

3:26 p.m.

* * *

Murdock put his right foot onto a length of thick pipe about two feet off the floor and hauled himself up, balancing with his palms to the wall, then bounced up and down repeatedly, testing his weight on the metal tubing. It took the abuse without so much as a shimmy.

He put the lighter between his teeth and jumped for the pipes on the next level, curling his hands around the thick diameter just as they disappeared into the sides of the shaft, and dangled for a moment before pulling up his legs to get purchase on the concrete in front of him.

Once he got his upper torso into the crawlspace, it was simple enough to haul himself in the rest of the way, and he lay on his stomach for a moment, grinning triumphantly around the plastic between his teeth. He took the lighter in hand once more and flicked it, stretching it out at arm's length to illuminate the tunnel before him.

It disappeared into the the darkness, stretching away significantly farther than his tiny flame. "Helloooooo..." he said in a sing-song voice. "Anybody home?"

When no answer was forthcoming, he let the flame snuff out and started forward.

The crawlspace was exactly that, certainly not large enough to walk through, even crouched, but it was easy going on his hands and knees. He flicked the lighter on sporadically to check his progress, and after the first several feet he discovered that he was no longer surrounded by concrete, but that he was now being flanked by metal on his right side.

Periodically, he'd find smaller ducts off the main branch, part of the air conditioning system, small enough that even his lanky frame would have a difficult time squeezing through, even if he thought the metal sheeting would hold him, but he kept to the main trunk, following the pipes, curious to see where this tunnel into nowhere led.

He figured he must be more than halfway through the building when one of his flashes of flame caught a darker space hovering at the edge of the patch of illumination. Cautiously crawling forward until he was along side, he struck the light once more, pushing his arm through the hole, avoiding the sharp edges where the metal had been pried up. Smiling at what he saw before him, he whispered, "Well, well, home sweet home."

From his perch near the ceiling, he took everything below him in with a practiced eye. The basement room was small, utilitarian, and smelled vaguely of old smoke and memories. The concrete of the walls was discolored with the scorch marks of a fire long-since extinguished.

Between himself and where, he assumed, there must be a doorway at the far end, stood a wall of boxes, yellowed and labeled with dates, stacked so thick and high that only a few measly inches separated them from the low ceiling.

In the cramped and hidden compartment there lurked several testaments that this room was being occupied.

Tucked into one corner, atop two file boxes stacked to create a make-shift table, stood a coffee-maker. Next to it, on the floor, a milk crate held an inordinate number of instant soups and a mixture of various boxed foods. Two gallon-sized plastic jugs, one full and one half-empty, held the requisite water supply. A jumble of comforters and a pillow had been thrust into the opposite corner in a heap, and a tangle of wires protruded from an electrical box, attesting to the fact that someone had jury-rigged themselves an outlet.

"Nice place you've got here." He whispered. "I like the decor, very homey."

He felt the lighter warm again in his hand and quickly extinguished the flame. Starting the long crawl back, he hadn't made it more than a few feet before a wracking cough, punctuated with garbled profanity, sounded somewhere nearby. He flicked the light back into existence and listened to the the sounds for a moment, trying to pin down their direction in the strange echoing space, and after a moment, realized that were coming from one of the small side-branches of duct-work.

He looked down the tunnel, at the room he had discovered, then back into the stretch of darkness extending in the other direction, towards the maintanance shaft, mentally judging the distance. Then he tilted his head to stare at the ceiling directly above him.

"Ah'll be damned, Behl. You really HAVE been hearing something movin' around under your bed."

At that moment there was a soft popping sound, something flew by him to clatter softly against the concrete of the tunnel, and his entire world flared up brieftly before plunging into darkness.

"Dangit." he cursed quietly, laying what was left of the lighter on the floor in front of him while sticking his thumb into his mouth. After sucking on it for a moment, he pulled it out and waved it in the air. "I'm gonna make Face get me one of them fancy lighters he's always carryin' around. Don't have to worry about the plastic meltin'."

He felt in the darkness for a minute, carefully retrieving all the pieces he could find, and shoved them into his pocket.

Then he blindly started feeling his way back down the tunnel, wishing, once again, that'd he brought his flashlight.

* * *

June 9th

4:14 p.m.

* * *

Murdock was almost to the top of the ladder when he heard the loud distinctive clang of the stairwell door closing.

Holding his breath, he listened intently as footfalls crossed the roof towards him, and the hatch above creaked slightly as someone sat themselves upon it.

A man's voice drifted down to him, chuckling quietly as it said, "Hey, baby, been thinking about you all day."

Murdock whispered so low that the sound barely reached his own ears. "Mackie? Oh, you've got to be kiddin'. If you've got a girl up there I'm goin' back down and takin' a nap. I get enough of this when Facey's around." Then a thought occured and his eyes widened. "Oh pretty please don't notice the padlock's undone and decide to lock up. This is not where I want to spend the evening."

Then he heard the now-familiar click of a cigarette lighter, and very shortly the faint smell of smoke drifted by him.

Murdock sniffed at the air filtering down through the holes in the hatchway and smirked as he realized that the new arrival was keeping a different kind of company, and certainly wasn't going to be noticing anything as trivial as a missing padlock.

"Mackie, Mackie, you're a naughty boy. No wonder you always come back from break in a good mood. Don't suppose you wanna share one of those with The Mammoth, huh? Mellow the mudsucker out?"

Murdock clung to the rungs, barely breathing, until he finally heard Mackie shift himself off the hatch, humming to himself. He didn't move until he heard the man enter the stairwell and let the door slam shut behind him.

"'Bout time. I thought I was gonna have to start chargin' ya rent." He shoved the hatch up, happy to feel the sunlight on his face again, and clambered back onto the roof.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Yes, I've actually had a lighter do that to me.

The plastic holding together all those fun little moving parts on the top melted and snapped violently, and I ended up getting smacked in the face with small pieces of hot metal.

Not fun.

Still, could have been worse, the actual lighter itself could have exploded.

I'm taking a lot of liberties with the construction design of the V.A., so if you're in the business and know for a fact that a building would never be made this way, just chalk it up to artistic license.

This is a fanfic, not an architectural documentary.

Also, I'm going out of town in the next day or so, and while I hope to have internet access while I'm away, there may be a brief interruption in the daily chapter postings.

Worry not, the story won't be abandoned half-finished, I'm having WAY too much fun writing it.


	12. Bye Bye Billy

* * *

Chapter 12: Bye Bye Billy

* * *

October 4th

10:17 a.m.

* * *

Murdock tossed the foam ball across the small room, trying to hook it through the basketball net on the far wall, but succeeding only in bouncing it off the backboard and forcing him to peel his lanky form from the mattress and scrabble around behind his arcade game, trying to retrieve it before it was lost in the unimaginable depths known in scientific circles as 'personal effects', but to him personally as 'that pile of stuff that eats anything that gets near it'.

He hauled himself back to the bed and perched half-on the edge, trying another throw, this time emerging triumphant as the ball swept through gracefully.

"He shoots, he scores, the crowd goes wild!"

This time the ball retrieval was accompanied by an energetic tribute to an unseen mass of spectators, including an impromptu tap number on top of the dresser.

"Oh yeah, the ol' boy's still got it." He leapt back onto the floor and contemplated his surroundings for a moment before holding the ball at eye level and quietly directing a confession to it.

"Tell ya what, buddy, I'm bored. I really shouldn't be bored, you know, Facey just dropped me off an hour ago. It's just that going from a week's worth of adrenalin to knockin' a ball around the room is a bit of a let down. No offense to you, of course," he clarified hurriedly, "you can't help it that you're not as interesting as having bad guys aiming guns in your direction."

He sighed. "Still, things have been so quiet around here lately, what with Behl sleepin' nights. The lights haven't even so much as flickered in ages. Even The Mammoth's been holding himself in check, though that just makes me wonder what he's plotting in that thick skull of his."

Murdock chuckled dryly. "I thought we had something interesting going on a few months back, found this secret base nestled in amongst the bric-a-brac in the basement, but that was my own damn fault. Went back the next day and the whole place was cleared out. The guy didn't leave anything behind but the flint wheel of that lighter that tried to take my head off, just a rotten piece of bad luck, must have flung itself pretty far in the dark that night. Poor man probably came back and found it perched in the middle of his bed."

He held the ball up to his ear for a moment.

"Yeah, I agree. Can't blame him for packing up and making a break for it when he realized someone had been rustlin' around in his inner sanctum. Still, you've gotta admit, it had potential."

A garbled voice echoed down the hallway. "Yew thlimehy bathtardth, git outta mah room ahmd quith schtealim mah bahtterieth!"

Murdock smirked and perked up immediately. "Hey, now, seems like Behl's back from therapy. Sounds like he caught Mackie doing a room check while he was out, too, better go save the guy before Behl decides to gum him to death. Been great talkin' to you, you're a great listener, we should do this again sometime." He carefully put the ball onto his nightstand, patted it fondly, and strode into the hallway, shoving his hands into his pockets as he headed next door to see what the ruckus was about.

* * *

October 4th

2:12 p.m.

* * *

"So, where did we go on our latest adventure? Report says you were the only donor match for some high-ranking something-or-other."

"Ah, we winged our way to the wild and woolly Netherlands. I asked them to put me on Air Force One, but it must have been in the shop that day, 'cause I ended up crammed into a coach seat on a 747 with my knees up my nose and some kid with the biggest head I've ever seen kicking the back of my seat."

Richter chuckled. "Have a good time?"

Murdock smiled wistfully. "Met the prettiest nurse you ever did see. Tried to take my temperature and I told her she'd better buy me a drink first."

"You're just an old-fashioned Romeo."

"Actually, we really hit it off. Sweetest lil' thing. Fussed over me the whole time. You wanna know what she said to me as I was getting ready to head home? She stood in the corner of the room, watching me pack, and asked, "Murdock? You have ever proposed marriage from a Dutch girl??" Adorable little accent. You could have lifted my jaw up off the floor with a spatula."

"So, will we be hearing wedding bells in the near future?"

"Nah, I'm a good ol' American boy and she's got a dream of working with some brain-case over there by the name of Aage Olafsen." He rolled it off his tongue. "Ooooooh Olafsen. What kind of name is "Aage", anyhow? Sounds like "ewwwww", I feel like I've just watched someone step in gum every time I hear it."

"We shouldn't judge, Murdock could very well mean something obscene over there, and we'd never know."

"Actually, I think it means 'kitty litter'."

"It could be worse. I had a colleague back in the day who volunteered to pull duty in some far-flung village overseas. His first name sounded almost exactly like a local euphemism for male genitalia. Poor guy didn't figure out for weeks why everyone started snickering any time he introduced himself."

Murdock's grin widened. "That's really unfortunate. Still, this girl was a cutie, Doc. Sharp as a tack and kissed like she needed it more than air."

"She wanted your heart, but all she got was a kidney, then?"

He chuckled. "Something like that. I felt so bad for having to say no that I left Billy with her so she'd have something to remember me by."

Richter blinked in surprise. "You gave her Billy? She must really have been something special."

"Yeah, she was." His eyes fixed on Richter's for a moment. "I hope she takes good care of him, I miss him already. He was the best dog in the world."

* * *

October 4th

5:42 p.m.

* * *

"C'mon, not again, I'm trying to digest over here." Murdock shot a glance across the room, debating what to do next.

He'd been keeping a sharp eye on The Mammoth as the white-clad orderly wove his way through the cafeteria, knowing that the hulking man had already gone far longer than ever before without stirring up trouble, and unfortunately it seemed that his hunch had paid off. The lumbering mass was ostensibly checking on the various diners, but Murdock had seen him steal at least three cookies off of patients' trays, sliding them into his pocket for later so that the cafeteria staff wouldn't notice what he was up to.

Murdock knew full well that he wasn't after a midnight snack so much as he was reveling in the knowledge that he'd deprived others of their desserts, and a moment ago he'd seen him purposefully dip his forefinger into Bernie's creamed corn as he passed by. Bernie apparently wasn't going to take it this time, shoving his tray back, tipping his chair over as he stood, gesturing madly with his good arm at The Mammoth's receding back, and letting loose with a string of expletives.

To the casual observer, it would appear that Bernie had simply chosen that moment to send his sanity on a side-trip to Hawaii and was taking it out on a random orderly who was already several feet away when the noise started, which was, of course, exactly how The Mammoth intended it.

So trouble was brewing, and now Murdock had to figure out what to do about it before a fellow resident got himself shoved into solitary or doped up for the night.

Seeing a staff member heading Bernie's direction with a no-nonsense look on his face, he swung into action, dumping what was left of his dinner onto the tabletop and gripping the orange tray tightly as he jumped onto the table, shoes squelching in his leftovers, to shout, "Fear me! I am Bandle-Whather, god of the air, and I demand sacrifices!"

He sent the tray soaring over The Mammoth's head with a solid flick of his wrist, launching it across the cafeteria to clatter against the wall and noisily skid back a few feet in his direction across the linoleum.

He punctuated the action with a war cry as the other residents joined in the fray, flinging spoonfuls of various foods in his direction, and with both Mr. No-nonsense and The Mammoth distracted by the sudden turn of events, Bernie took advantage of the opportunity.

Shoving his hand deep into The Mammoth's pocket, he squeezed the contents and yanked them backwards, showering everyone in the immediate vicinity in a hail of broken cookie shards.

Murray, head of cafeteria staff and Master Of His Domain watched the proceedings with avid interest and, ignoring the antics of the residents, laid into The Mammoth with a tirade of his own. "Hey, those are my cookies! Those are for residents, not staff. You been pilfering from my kitchen, mister?"

The Mammoth quickly shot looks between Murdock, who had struck a dramatic pose on the table top despite the culinary 'sacrifices' being gleefully hurled his way, and Bernie, who had dodged half-way across the room and was grinning like a fool from the relative safety offered by distance, then settled on Murray, matching him glare for glare.

"What's it to you? It's just a couple of cookies."

"What it is to me, buster, is that Admin's been cracking down on expenditures, and I'm tired of getting my ass raked across the fire whenever something goes missing from stores. It's bad enough when they," he waved one arm distractedly at the food fight going on behind him, "waste what they're given, but there's no way I'm putting up with it from staff. You're posted to the psych ward, aren't you? Maybe a little note to your bosses will get you to keep your sticky fingers to yourself."

Murdock broke his pose, scraped some potatoes off his shoe, peeled a spoonful of green beans off the brim of his cap, and hopped down to the floor, shooting a triumphant smile at the chastised orderly.

From across the room, The Mammoth's eyes burned into Murdock's, full of less-than-pleasant promises.

* * *

October 5th

1:51 a.m.

* * *

That night, while Murdock was still celebrating his minor victory with a video game marathon despite the late hour, the lights went out again.

He blinked into the sudden darkness, dead controller in his hands, and whispered into the pitch black, "Looks like we've got company again. It's about time."

Grinning to himself, he considered. "I say tomorrow night we have ourselves a proper introduction, buddy. I can't wait to see what kind of crazy breaks INTO a nuthouse."

* * *

Author's notes:

First off, a hearty welcome to Keth / Kes / Sonic Serendipity! (Or are they all one and the same, sans teeth in one instance? *giggles* Ah thee whath yew dith there, Keth!)

Two of the incidents described (getting proposed to by a Dutch girl and leaving Billy in the Netherlands) actually occurred, just not in the context or time frame seen above.

Back in 1985, several people involved with the show (Dwight Schultz, Dirk Benedict, Mr. T, and Stephen J. Cannell) went to the Netherlands on a publicity tour.

At one point they put on a skit in which Murdock presents Billy as a gift to everyone over there.

At another point, a young woman in the audience proposes to Dwight, not realizing that he was already married.

I loved both of these moments so much that I just had to work them into the story somehow, and nothing seemed quite so perfect as framing them in the context of one of the infamous never-quite-know-what's-real-and-what's-not therapy sessions where Murdock always keeps Richter guessing as to what's really going on.

For those of you who are curious, you can currently (as of the writing of this) find videos of both events on YouTube. They're listed as: "The A-team in Holland: a girl proposes to Dwight" and "The A-team scene that never was shown in the series."

I want to offer up some serious kudos to all of you out there that post awesome stuff like that on the internet. *round of applause* Believe it or not, there are actually geeks like me out there that watch this stuff.

As I start to wrap up this novel of an author's note, I just have to state that, no, I don't have any idea why a name spelled Aage is pronounced "ewww", but it was the name of a character in a Dutch mini-series I loved ("The Kingdom" aka "Riget", my copy of which was in Dutch with English sub-titles) and I swear that's how it was pronounced. That's okay, they probably think a lot of the names we use over here in the USA don't make any sense, either.

On a final note, "Brain Case" Olafsen is a tribute to Hans Olafsen, the man who programmed and maintained the very first website I was ever addicted to. It was a BBS chat room called Olohof based out of, yes, you guessed it, the Netherlands. Hans, there are times that I both bless and curse you for fueling my inner internet junkie, without you I'd still be living in the dark ages, probably writing fanfic in spiral-bound notebooks and never letting it see the light of day.


	13. Meeting In The Dark

Chapter 13: Meeting In The Dark

* * *

October 5th

6:21 p.m.

* * *

Murdock let the door at the top of the stairwell click shut and lock behind him, casting an eye over the rooftop as elongated shadows stretched in the setting sun.

"Okay, buddy, I'm done playin' hide and seek."

He crouched down to keep himself out of the eye-line of anyone on the ground and made his way to the hatch, pulling out his lock picks.

When the padlock finally gave way, he lifted the hatch slightly. He hooked the open lock into the hole that a metal ring, which the lock was usually fastened to, would protrude from once he closed the opening behind him.

It took several minutes, once he was inside, of hanging half on and half off the ladder, poking his long fingers through the holes in the metal, but he finally maneuvered the lock onto the ring and clicked it shut. "I really hope you're comin' to visit tonight, because I'm not sure I can get back outta here."

When he reached the bottom, he immediately scanned the area with his flashlight, then hoisted himself back into the crawlspace. Spending the better part of the next hour on his hands and knees, flashlight between his teeth, he re-exploring the tunnel and the hidden room. It once again showed signs of occupation, jury-rigged kitchen in place and a bundle of bedding in the corner, but the cramped space still waited silently for its inhabitant.

He made his way back, the concrete cool under his palms, until he found himself once more on the floor of the maintenance shaft.

Now there was nothing to do but settle himself into a corner to wait.

* * *

October 5th

11:26 p.m.

* * *

Much later, as he was half-dozing and half-contemplating yet another shift in position to relieve the numbness in his backside, he finally heard hushed footfalls on the roof far above him.

He rose carefully to his feet, and although he couldn't see anything in the darkness, he heard someone working at the padlock, and then a muffled screech as the hatch was lifted.

There was a brief glimpse of stars, quickly blotted as something moved into the opening, and then even that faint light was extinguished as the hatch closed.

The fact that the newcomer benefited from repeated practice was evident, for it took only a few moments before Murdock stopped hearing the sounds of metal clanking on metal, heralding the securing of the padlock, and the sound of footfalls on the ladder reached his ears instead.

A barely discernible figure descended as Murdock held his breath.

When it finally reached the bottom, a click brought forth a sudden wash of illumination from a flashlight.

Murdock put up a hand to shield his dark-adjusted eyes and squinted against the glare.

"Nice night, huh?" he asked amiably.

The figure jumped, startled, and in a decisive series of movements thumbed off the flashlight, shoved him away hard enough to land him on the floor, and dove for the ladder.

"Hey, now, I'm not gonna hurt you. I just wanna talk."

He swung up onto his knees and grabbed at a pant leg, trying to keep the newcomer from ascending.

His action was rewarded with a swift kick that broke his grip.

"Oh, you wanna play rough?"

Regaining his footing, he grasped the fleeing shape around the waist before it could get past the second rung and hauled the two of them to the floor.

Untangling himself from the heap, he straddled the bucking form and grasped at the flailing arms, pinning them above his assailant's head with one hand, reaching for his own flashlight with the other.

He clicked on the light and lowered the beam. "C'mon, enough already. What do you think I am, the Boogie-"

His eyes widened as he took in the irate face beneath him.

"-man?"

He quickly loosed his grip and rolled to the side. "Oh, gawd. Are you okay, I didn't reali-"

The fist that met his jaw sent him toppling, and he cracked his head solidly on the bottom of the ladder as his flashlight spun on the floor, causing distorted shadows to circle the walls.

In the weird light, the figure stood and glared at him menacingly.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Gotta love The Old Farmer's Almanac... how else could I have found out what time the sun set over the V.A. on October 5th, 1984?

Just a word of warning, there's going to be some strong language coming up, as Murdock's new acquaintance turns out to NOT be the most polite of creatures.


	14. It's Called A Handshake

Chapter 14: It's Called A Handshake

* * *

October 5th

11:34 p.m.

* * *

Murdock rubbed a hand gingerly across the back of his head, wincing, and stared up at the person pinning him with a murderous glare.

"You're a girl."

"Well, aren't you the astute little fuck-tard. Before you start getting any other bright ideas, I should warn you. This girl's six feet tall, weighs in at 308 pounds, has got a mean right hook, and is not afraid to take off an appendage with her teeth, so if you're smart you'll get the hell out of my way."

"Yeah, already caught on to the right hook, thanks."

He pulled himself to his feet and she backed away warily. "Not so sure you could take an arm off with your teeth, though."

"I never said that was the appendage I had in mind."

Murdock blinked. "Oh. No, no, I'm not- I'm not that kind of guy."

"Oh, so you usually lurk silently in the dark, accost women, and pin them to the floor just to say 'hello'?"

"I, uh, I thought you were a guy."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, and that's so much better."

"No!" He sputtered for a moment, not quite sure how this entire fiasco had taken a wrong turn. "Look, can we just start over?" He extended a hand and flashed her a grin. "H.M. Murdock."

She stood unmoving, not taking her eyes off of his face.

"It's called a hand-shake. See, I give you my name and put out my hand, you take it in yours, shake it up and down a little, and give me your name. Easy peasy."

"You're the nut who's been talking to himself on the roof."

Murdock grinned sheepishly. "Guilty as charged."

"You were poking around my place down here too, weren't you?"

He squared his shoulders proudly. "I have an insatiable curiosity."

"Mister, they should stick you in a cage and bill you as a curiosity."

"Hey, play nice."

"Sorry, not my strong point."

He tried a different tack. "So, what's with the elaborate cloak and dagger routine?"

She gestured dismissively. "Be it ever so humble..."

"But you're livin' in my basement. There's got to be better places to spend the night than in a pitch-black half-room directly underneath a bunch of crazies."

"It's starting to get cold again, and beggars can't be choosers. This place is relatively warm, dry, and my cul-de-sac," she hooked a thumb at the crawlspace, "doesn't usually see much traffic. It was perfect until some schmuck-" she glared pointedly, "went poking around my living room, so I cleared out."

"Over a broken lighter?"

"When you live like I do, it doesn't pay to hang around and ask questions. It's usually safer to move on than risk running into the landlord."

"Then why come back?"

She folded her arms across her chest and sighed before continuing."I usually keep a couple of bolt-holes handy, but somebody up-top must be up for re-election or something, the police have been cracking down hard the last couple of weeks, "cleaning up the streets" they call it. Both of my current places got cleared out over the last several days, and I figured that after a few months whoever was poking around down here before would have gotten over it."

"What can I say, I'm tenacious."

"So's a Pit Bull when it's got its teeth sunk to the gums in your leg."

Murdock let it slide and changed the subject.

"So why play all-powerful-deity with the lighting?"

She shrugged lethargically and leaned her shoulder against one of the access panels. "I've got a friend who fields some commission work for me. I get a few bucks at the beginning of every month and restock my bolt-holes."

"And?"

"You ever try bringing a good-sized stash of food up the side of a building in the middle of the night without arousing suspicion?"

Murdock chuckled. "Can't say I've ever had the privilege."

"With the circles I move in, it's best not to carry cash. You spend it as soon as you see it, or you'll never see it again."

"Wait, 'up the side of a building'? I figured you were breakin' in through the offices at night like I was."

"Are you nuts? No, wait," she held up a hand, "don't answer that, for all I know you were up on the roof that first night stripped naked and doing the hula. Through the building is way too high-profile when it's so much easier to sneak around the back and head up the main downpour spout."

"You've been shimmyin' up the drainpipe? And you ask if I'm nuts?"

"You like to read?"

Murdock raised an eyebrow at the sudden tangent. "Sure."

"Find yourself a book called "The Night Climbers of Cambridge". It was written by a group of students long, long ago, as an introduction to roof climbing. Started out as a way to get back into the school after hours and ended up being an adventure in and of itself. It'll tell you anything you need to know about scaling pipes, crawling up and down chimneys, staying out of sight when security's out, and most importantly, how to come back in one piece. Most people look at a wall and see a barrier. I look at it and see a challenge. Still, there's a big difference between scaling up myself and lugging several bags up with me. I'm hardly a light-weight and that pipe barely holds me, if I've been shopping I have to carry up a rope and haul my supplies up separately. If the main power's out, the whole place becomes one big shadow, even the streetlamps closest to the building go out. I don't know who designed this place, but I like the way they cut corners."

"You do realize that this is a hospital. There's people up there hooked up to all kinds of important stuff."

She stepped forward and stabbed a finger at him. "And by law each and every vital piece of equipment can run off of a back-up generator. It's not like I'm cutting off the juice for hours at a time, just long enough to keep everyone looking the other way for a few minutes."

Murdock bit his lower lip and stood silently, and she finally took her eyes off of him long enough to cast a glance around the floor, stooping to pick up both of their flashlights. She shined his into his eyes with one hand while clicking the button on her own repeatedly.

"You broke my flashlight, you putz."

Murdock squinted and looked chagrined. "I'm sorry. You can have mine, it's barely been used."

She stared at him for several moments. "You stalk me, you attack me, you nearly get your head knocked off, you accuse me of trying to kill off patients, and then you start giving me your stuff? What the hell is up with you?"

His left hand went up to rub at the back of his head again. "I suppose I'm just glad you finally decided to be talkative instead of combative."

She lowered the flashlight, casting a bright circle on his chest. "Might as well, it's not like I'm coming back here after tonight. Besides, you're still standing between me and my way out, so I figured if I kept you talking you'd eventually either get bored and stop playing cat-and-mouse or have to answer to some biological necessity and need me," she reached into a pocket and pulled out an overflowing keyring, "to get us back out of here."

He looked at her sadly and answered softly, "Look, sweetheart, it's not that I'm holdin' you hostage, you want out of here just say the word and I'll step back. I just wanted to talk. You playin' with the lights started this whole thing and I had to find out what it was all about." He paused for a moment and added in and even quieter voice. "It's not like I'm gonna tell anybody important that you're down here, y'know. Besides, who'd believe me? Can you see me stretched out on a couch, sayin', "Hey, Doc, guess what? The goddess of power failures is livin' in the basement. Careful, though, she'll knock your teeth out if you're not nice to her.""

The woman's lips quivered in amusement. "Well, there is that. You're seriously telling me that you're not going to turn me in?"

"Scout's honor."

"Why should I believe you?"

He smiled and batted his eyes. "Would these big browns lie to you?"

She eyed him again, her gaze finally resting on his long-suffering attempt at an introduction.

"You gonna keep that hand out there all night?"

"If I have to."

She stepped forward and gingerly took his hand in her own. "You were calling me 'Ness' earlier."

"Yeah." He chuckled at the memory. "I thought you were somebody else."

"It's as good a name as any. I'm not sure I like the looks of you yet."

"Okay, Ness." he said, flashing what he hoped was a charming smile. "It'll do."

She let go of his hand. "It'll have to."

* * *

Author's Notes:

Well, I warned you way back in the first chapter that we'd be seeing a female OC at some point. Yeah, it's me. Well, physically. I may be loony, but I actually try to be a nice person. Ness, on the other hand, has some serious social issues. I'm adamant that she not be one of those 'perfect/loves everybody/everybody loves her' Mary Sue's, and I think I'm going to have a lot of fun playing with her dark, mistrusting, snarky side as a result.

I'm going to try to keep the language to a minimum, but be warned, she does have a mouth on her. With luck I'll at least keep whatever profanity there is relevant, amusing, and inventive.

The book Ness refers to does exist, and the entire text can be found at

insectnation (dot) org/projects/nightclimbers/html

if you're interested in taking a peek.

On a completely unrelated note, I need a helping hand from my wonderful reviewers!

I'm out of town right now, elbowing several others out of the way to gain a few scant minutes of computer time here and there, and it's definitely put a crimp in my writing. As an example, I'm currently enjoying a couple hours of uninterrupted computer time while the rest of the household is doing some last-minute wedding shopping, and thanks to a note from Kes *high five* I realized that I'd really thickened up Murdock's accent (especially in chapter 12) to the point where I was amazed that I hadn't started throwing out words like "varmit" and "y'all" every couple of sentences.

I went back and did some major editing to the previous two chapters, both to tone down the drawl (Please re-visit Chapter 12: Now with 75% less Hick!) and smooth out a couple of parts that I wasn't happy with the first time around.

Normally, when I complete a chapter, I walk away from it for a few hours before a final bout of proofreading, the most important part of which is actually sitting in a silent room and 'hearing' the dialogue in my head to make sure it sounds right. I'm not going to have this 'final draft' luxury again until next week, so if you, dear readers, spot anything that suddenly sounds 'off', PLEASE let me know so that I can tackle it the next time I get online!

I hate turning out shoddy work.

More to come as soon as I elbow the hordes out of the way!

PS: Kes was right, he 'caught himself a girlie'. Now he just has to figure out how to keep her from wanting to skin him alive.


	15. Secrets

Chapter 15: Secrets

* * *

October 6th

1:39 p.m.

* * *

Murdock sprinted across the lawn, covering the distance between himself and his target in enthusiastic ground-eating strides, sporting a grin that was valiantly attempting to eat his face whole as he caught up and slowed his progress to a near-crawl to match the old man's shuffling pace.

"Heya, Behl, what's new in your corner of the universe?"

"Ih've goth ohm of thoth itcheth today that justh wohm't schtoph drivim' meh crathy. Feelth like I've goth a chigger crawlim' up mah ath."

Murdock held up his hands to ward him off. "Whoa, kemosabe, you're on your own with that lil' problem."

Behl grinned toothlessly. "What, dohm't wanna help a ohld friemd out? Yah bathtard, just thee if I schemd you amy more Chrithmath cardth."

Clutching one hand to his heart and pressing the knuckles of the other against his forehead, Murdock looked pained. "May the saints preserve me, not that, anythin' but that, those little missives are my lifeline! Holiday tidings and warm season's greetings, festooned with badly drawn snowmen and silhouettes of reindeer. Single sentence sentiments spewing forth like a veritable flood of good cheer. What am I gonna do come Christmas, sittin' all alone, staring at my empty walls, wishing - nay, pining for just one card to brighten my dreary existence? I know what I'll be doin', I'll be thinkin' back to this day, the day that I let down a friend, the day when the tides turned and it all went south for me."

Behl wheezed at him good-naturedly. "Dahmmit, schnowt, yer killim meh."

"I'm still not stickin' my hand anywhere near your hind end. Y'see, I'd have to amputate it and burn the remains afterward, and that would seriously complicate my plans to win the nationwide double-handed yo-yo tournament in Beijing next month. Sorry, muchacho, but if it's a toss-up between your butt and a blue ribbon, I think I'm gonna play it safe."

"Okay, fair emouth. Whath uhp ihm yer wohrld, kid, yer grimmim so wide ahm expectim to thee featherth comim outta the cormers of yer mouth, dethpithe the fact that iht lookth like ah midget tried to give ya a schimer without fimdim a ladder firtht."

Murdock rubbed his lower jaw and chuckled. "That's actually part of what I was wantin' to talk to you about." He inclined his head towards a shaded area in the distance, away from the residents and staff that were milling around the grounds. "Think you can keep a secret?"

"Yer fimally gomma tell ol' Behl where ya dithappear to all the time?"

"Even better."

"Bether? Ahl be dahmed, ya fimally got meh that hooker I've beem askim for!"

Murdock shook his head and laughed. "Okay, maybe not that good, but I think you'll get a kick out of it. C'mon, let ol' Murdock tell ya a little story about some late-night lock-pickin'."

* * *

October 6th

2:13 p.m.

* * *

"Mackie'th beem schmokim' out ohm the roof ahl thith time? That explaims tho much." Behl chuckled.

Murdock leaned back against a tree, hands in his pockets. "Yup, wish he'd share some of that with The Mammoth. Now there's a guy who could use mellowin' out."

"Cookie Boy? He'th not gomma be a problem muth longer."

Murdock tilted his head slightly and looked quizzical. "Cookie Boy? Don't let him hear you callin' him that or a bug up your butt's gonna be the least of your worries."

"Yew muthta schlepth late, yew havem't heard yet, hath yew?"

"Heard what?"

"He'th umder review. Too many complaimth from rethidemth ahmd schtaff. They catch him doim' ohme more thimg ahmd he'th outta here, beem puthyfoothim' aroumd all mormim', look ohm hith fath like he'th beem eatim' the cafeteriath bithcschith ahmd gravy."

"Behl, you just made my day a lil' bit brighter. Here I thought that I was the one with interestin' news!"

"Tho, fimith yer schtory, dahmmit, yew foumd the room, figured out ah really had beem hearim thomethim' crawlim' aroumd umder meh, nearly took yer owm head off, ahmd schcared 'em off for the schummer..." he waited expectantly.

Murdock took a deep breath and launched himself back into the story. "So, when the lights finally go out again, I figure our friend's back and I decide to be a good neighbor and stop by to say hello. I slipped out, hunkered down, and finally got to meet," he lowered his voice dramatically, "our mysterious guest."

"Ahmd?"

"It was a girl."

"Ah girl? Yew're kiddim me."

"Nope."

Behl raised his eyebrows. "Ahl be dahmmed. Yew, alome with a girl im the middle of the might, tell meh, didth yew gith her the whath fohr?"

"Behl!"

"C'mohn, ith a total schet-up! Privathy, a lomely boy, a mythteriouth lady vithitimg im the wee hourth of the mormim'. Y'gotta admit, ith not like we've got 'em limim' up at the door to the thych ward. Cam't evem keep the cute murseth, dahm Mammoth rums 'em off."

"Behl, it's really not like that."

"Oh, I thee." he winked. "Yew tried to give her a kith ahmd thee decked ya, huh?"

"I tried to say 'hello' and she decked me."

Behl laughed. "Routh ahmd tumble type? Thith could get interethtim!"

Murdock sighed. "Maybe we should go find you a girl, you're in one hell of a mood today."

"Okay, okay, tell uth all about yer lil' trethpather."

Murdock sat himself on the grass and looked up at his neighbor. "I'm sprawled on my backside and lookin' up at this absolute behemoth. Girl's so tall that when I do get back on my feet we were practically standin' there nose-to-nose. We're not talkin' a light-weight either, if she ever took on The Mammoth, I wouldn't be sure which one to lay my money on."

"Dahm. You foumd yerthelth a whole lotta womam. Thee theriouthly decked yew becauth yew thaid hello?"

"Well, in her defense, I did kinda rip her off the ladder and pin her down first."

Behl let loose a phlegmy bark of laughter and slowly settled himself down on the grass as well. "Ahmd they thay chivalry ith dead. Tho I'm guethimg yew thcared her off agaim, huh? Am I gomma hath to give yew tipth om how to talk to the ladieth?"

Murdock slapped him on the shoulder, shaking his head. "Give it a rest, you haven't talked to a lady in twenty years, and no, I didn't run her off, it took me half the night to convince her I wasn't going to let anyone important know that someone's livin' down there, so keep this under your hat."

"Who'm I gomma tell, Cookie Boy? Halth of theth people here cahm't figure out what I'm thayim' amyway. Tho, whath thith girl who'th beem hidim' umder mah bed look like?" He wiggled his bushy eyebrows suggestively.

"Not your type, Behl, she could break you in half for lookin' at her wrong. Big. Dark hair. Dark eyes."

"C'mom schnowt, give yer ol' buddy thome thpethificth."

"Kinda hard to tell, she practically had the flashlight up my nose for most of the conversation and was wearing so many layers of clothin' that she probably had more on last night than I go through in a week. Whitest face I've ever seen, though, looked like she'd been livin' in a cave her whole life and I half-expected her to start talkin' like Bela Lugosi. Was wearin' big ol' lady glasses, as if she'd scammed them off of someone's grandma, had one of the lenses cracked half-way through."

Behl eyed him dubiously when he paused. "Thath nowt a girl, thath ohme of thoth thom-caths yew thee wamderim dowm the alley mithim am ear."

Murdock chuckled at the image. "She's paranoid as all get-out, too, the first thing she thought of when she realized I was there was that I was going to-" he paused for a moment and cleared his throat, "be decidedly un-gentleman-like."

"Our lil' Murdock, the full-growm Boy Schcout? Yew thure cam pick the wimmers, schnowt. Yew gomma leave it well-emough alome and schave yerschelf amother beatim'?"

Murdock looked over at him and the grin returned full-force. "Behl, buddy, I'm gonna do what any well-brought-up boy would do. I'm gonna properly welcome our new neighbor."

* * *

Author's Notes:

Many thanks to Kisa, my latest reviewer! (Even if she did forget to log me off FFDN before reviewing. Silly girl, someone's going to think I'm padding my own reviews. Not that I'm complaining *looks innocent* because without my Kisa I wouldn't have been able to post any chapters this week! Okay, everybody, give a big hand to the nice lady who's letting me play on her computer!)

Well, we've got some good news on The Mammoth front, although I bet he's decidedly unhappy about the sudden attention, poor Behl finally gets vindicated after all those months of nobody believing him about the 'monsters' under his bed, and we get a touch more information about Ness.

Oh, and Behl needs to get out more.


	16. Housewarming

Chapter 16: Housewarming

* * *

October 6th

10:48 p.m.

* * *

The night was just beginning to hold a slight chill and Murdock unfolded his arms to pull once again at the cuffs of his jacket, trying to keep his wrists covered. He was keeping company with the crickets and the roofline again, waiting patiently for his new acquaintance to appear.

It was difficult to stifle the urge to break his way into the maintenance shaft and see if anyone was home, but he already knew how close his new neighbor had come to fleeing and could only hope that she hadn't already cleared out, leaving him to wait fruitlessly in the cold.

Unable to see his watch in the dimness and unwilling to turn on his flashlight he didn't know how long he had sat shivering, but finally he heard the faintest of sounds coming from the corner of the building where the drain pipe ran and sat perfectly still, not wanting to give away his position in case she heard him and decided to retreat, or worse yet, lost her grip on the precarious pathway.

It wasn't until the shadowy form was halfway between the edge of the roof and the maintenance hatch that he spoke up from where he was half-hidden behind the AC unit. "Hello sweetheart, how was your day?"

She crouched and peered into the darkness for a moment before picking him out. "Son of a tuberculotic howler monkey, not you again."

Murdock pulled himself to his feet and approached slowly, arms away from his sides and palms up in an attempt to convey his peaceful intentions. "Seemed like a nice night for stargazin'."

"Is this going to become a recurring theme? You getting to sneak up on me each night in exchange for a dry place to sleep?"

He shrugged. "Who says I didn't just happen to be up here?"

"I do and you're freaking me out. Go away."

He hooked his thumbs into his pockets and scuffed at the ground with the toe of one sneaker. "Aw, it's just lil' ol' me and I'm harmless."

The woman stood her ground and snarled. "If I'd known that you'd be charging some twisted sort of rent for this deal I'd have kissed the wind last night and left you hanging. You been down there rooting through my underwear drawer yet?"

He pulled one hand free and snapped his fingers as if the thought had just occurred. "Dang, I knew I'd forgotten to do something before you got back." He smiled as reached back into his pocket and pulled something from it. "I brought you a housewarmin' present."

She unshouldered a beat-up backpack and set it down, eying him suspiciously. "What sort of present?"

"Dessert!" He held out a cookie.

"You don't honestly think I'm going to accept food from someone I barely trust enough to allow within arm's reach."

He smiled, smacked his lips a few times, and informed her in a sing-song voice, "They're tasty." He broke it in half and munched on his portion before swallowing dramatically. "See, not poisoned, I promise."

She took a few hesitant steps toward him and reached out slowly to take the proffered half, sniffed it, and then took a small bite. "Seriously, what the hell do you want?" she asked, chewing.

"Just to talk."

"I'm not that interesting of a conversational companion."

He allowed himself a chuckle. "You're talkin' to a guy who's held conversations with inanimate objects."

She let out a short frustrated bark. "This is what I get for holing up in the loony bin." She considered for a moment. "Okay fruitbat I'll bite, what do you want to talk about?"

Murdock fixed his gaze over her shoulder and pretended to ponder. "The weather, the stock market, celebrity gossip, why you're hidin' out."

She popped the rest of the cookie into her mouth and chewed slowly before responding. "What's it matter to you why I'm hiding out?"

"If you're in trouble maybe I can help." He lowered his voice. "Is somebody after you?"

"What I'm hiding from isn't something you can help with." A scathing look raked him over. "Hell, you don't even look like you can help yourself."

"You'd be surprised. Ol' Murdock's got a few tricks up his sleeve."

"Look, I just want to be left alone. I don't understand why people find that to be so much to ask."

He stepped away and sat himself down on the edge of the hatch, patting the metal next to him. "Wanna step into my office and tell me all about it?"

She sighed in annoyance and hoisted the backpack again, tossing it down at the edge of the entrance before setting herself down on the far corner, tucking her legs up underneath her and keeping him pinned with her eyes as he shifted to look at her over his shoulder. "You want to know why I'm not amongst the rabble playing grown-up?"

"Yup."

It took her a moment to answer. "I don't do well out there." She waved in the general direction of the street below. "I like the shadows, I like being alone, and I like the idea that no one knows where to find me."

"So if you're so keen on keepin' yourself a secret then why the presents for Behl and me?"

She leveled a glare at him. "Honestly? You were annoying the hell out of me."

"Me?" He blinked innocently.

"Yes, you. That first night you were on the roof I was hanging just under this thing for what felt like an eternity." She patted the metal they were sitting on. "I heard the stairwell door shut behind you and then you sat down right on top of me. I hung there forever, afraid to move, and then you pull this 'sacrifice to the night' bullshit. I should have cleared out right then but the only thing on my mind was that I had to piss like a racehorse and barely made it off the roof and to that restaurant down the block to use their restroom."

He chuckled at the mental image that invoked. "How exactly does one shimmy down a drainpipe with their legs crossed?"

"Pure talent." Scratching at an itch on her upper arm she followed with, "I liked this bolt-hole enough that I was hoping if I made up some kind of 'monster deterrent' that you'd leave well enough alone and stop sneaking up here. It took me a while to figure something out and then I left it with the front desk for your friend." She hesitated. "I take it that it went over well?"

"He loved it. I've been trying to figure out somethin' to calm him down for ages and you hit on it with the first try." Pulling off his cap, he ran his fingers through his hair and then covered his head again. "I've gotta be careful or you're gonna start makin' me look bad."

"Trust me, I know all about monsters, especially ones that are self-induced. You were at a disadvantage, I knew he was actually hearing me so I made sure to keep the noises coming until the day I could drop it off and then started keeping really quiet as soon as I knew he had it so that he'd figure it was working."

Casting a glance at the metal beneath her as if she could see into the depths beyond it, she continued. "If I'd known how well the sound carried through the vents I'd have been that quiet from the beginning." She met his eyes again. "It's not as if I'm throwing wild parties down there but apparently I wasn't as silent as I thought I was." Another pause and then she finished quietly, "I really didn't mean to freak your friend out."

He shrugged it off. "It's not too hard with Behl, his tired ol' brain is always looking for something to get riled up over." Leaning towards her he decided to assauge his curiosity on a point that had been bothering him. "Now I get leaving the star machine at the front desk, anyone can just walk in and drop something off, but you not only brought me back the batteries I left up here but you put them back into my stereo."

His words were met with a michevious grin. "Oh, that. I was in an ornery mood that day and figured I'd give you a taste of you own medicine. Got to thinking that whether you were as nuts as you sounded or not you might think twice about spending time on the roof if you thought someone was watching you."

"How'd you even get into my room?" he asked, puzzled.

"With the amount of people they rotate in and out of the staff on your ward? I tidied myself up, threw on one of their uniforms, and strolled right in."

"Nice try but they keep the supply closet under lock, key, and adult supervision. Trust me, I tried that myself one day when I was goin' stir-crazy and just wanted to walk out."

She smirked wryly. "Not that the lock and key part would stop me but there's an easier way. Maybe you've forgotten but I've got access to the vents. My butt may be too big to squirm through the branch ducts, and the sheet aluminum they use on those would never hold me anyway, but I'm more than capable of shimmying through the main trunk. It runs the entire length of the building on each floor, though I'll admit that I prefer the basement, it's nice and quiet down there even if they don't have a bathroom."

"So how'd you get the uniform? The trunk isn't anywhere near the supply closet."

"I said basement." She reached over and smacked him lightly on the back of the head. "Where do you think the staff's laundry chute comes out, Mars?"

He threw back his head and laughed. "It would explain why all those socks disappear."

She afforded him a brief smile. "Whenever I can I keep an eye out for uniforms and anything else I can use. You never know when some weird odd or end might come in handy. Give me a heads-up and I can sneak into a dozen different businesses while in plain sight." She gestured at herself. "Usually I end up in men's clothes just because of my size but they'll work in a pinch. That's what happens when so many places only pay minimum wage, their employees don't usually bother paying too much attention."

He dropped her a conspiratorial wink. "You're just a sly little master thief, aren't ya?"

She chose to downplay the compliment. "Nah, I only take what won't be missed, stuff that can be written off as 'lost in the laundry' or 'just go to supplies and get a new one'. A little here, a little there, but it adds up over time."

"Didn't look like you could store much in that high-class suite of yours."

She shot him a frustrated glance. "Hell, kid, I don't keep it here. Places you might have to leave behind at a moment's notice aren't good for long-term storage."

"So you've got yourself secret underground lairs and a cache of nefarious disguises, huh? Planning on takin' over the world at some point?"

Murdock finally got a full blown, if depreciating, laugh out of her. "Yup, that's me, taking over the planet one basement at a time. Just don't ask to see my Evil Villain costume, I look horrible in spandex."

He ducked his chin. "You're talkin' to a guy that's built like a pipecleaner someone's left in their pocket and run through the wash. I'm not exactly an underwear model myself."

She smirked. "You are a bit wiry, don't they feed you in there?"

"Ever had hospital food?"

She nodded in understanding and held up a hand. "Enough said."

He looked her over for a moment before venturing, "Can I ask you a personal question?"

Tensing up again she shot back, "What, without getting your teeth punched in? Probably not."

"Life's not much fun without a few risks."

"Then you're braver than you look." She gave him a tight half-shrug. "You're welcome to ask but I don't make any promises about answering."

Taking a deep breath he ventured, "You sound like you've got yourself pretty well together and," he gestured back at the stairwell, "you're a hell of a lot smarter than some of the people they've got workin' here, what's with the homeless routine?"

Her eyes dropped and she stood suddenly to move a few steps away, folding her arms over her chest and watching the traffic on the street below for a moment before deciding to answer. "You ever turn the radio dial and hit a place half-way between stations where you can hear two different people taking about two different things but there's so much static and overlap that you can't tell what either of them are saying?"

"Sure."

"That's what it's like all the time in here." She looked down at him and tapped her temple. "On good days it's just background noise and I can ignore it. On bad days it's as if someone cranked the volume all the way up and it's all I can do to keep from screaming just to hear some noise that isn't coming from inside my head."

Staring sadly off into the distance once again she continued. "I can't concentrate on what anyone is saying, I can't keep my own thoughts in my head, sometimes it's so bad that I don't even know when or where I am. When I feel it creeping up on me all I can do is find a safe place to hide and ride it through. If I'm lucky I've got something handy to knock myself out with in the hopes that it'll be quiet again when I wake up."

He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and folding his hands together. "That sounds kinda dangerous."

"Depends on what's handy and how much of it I take. Still, no matter how dangerous it is, it's better than letting things get bad while I'm conscious enough to try and do something drastic about it." Unfolding her arms and rubbing her fingertips nervously across her palms she finished quietly, "Again."

He shifted himself slightly, looking uncomfortable. "And that's why you live like this?" He gestured toward the hatch below them.

"Ever try to hold a job when you don't know what's going to crawl out of the back of your head at any given moment?" she seethed.

"Yes." He sounded wistful. "A few times actually. I know it's time to quit when management starts keeping emergency numbers by the phone."

She looked him up and down appraisingly. "Sorry, I forgot you're one of us. Usually I have this conversation with people who are looking down their noses at me while thinking "This woman doesn't look sick, she's just doesn't want to work" or some such superiority-laden crap."

He shrugged. "All part and parcel." Then added quietly, "Why don't you get help?"

Narrowing her eyes, she side-stepped the question. "Sorry, that's more of a convoluted side-story than I've got the time or willingness to share right now." She looked at him and tilted her head, curious. "So, what are you in for?"

Murdock pasted a smile on his face and looked up at her. "Aw, you don't wanna hear about that, you've got enough on your plate as it is."

"Nice try, but you're not going to get off the hook that easily. I answered the question, now it's your turn."

"What if I don't answer?" He grinned disarmingly. "You gonna feed me that right hook again?"

Resting her hands on her hips the woman narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "No, I have a much more elegant solution. I pack up all my shit and you'll never see me again. It'll take me all of five minutes, plus crawling through the tunnel back and forth and cutting the power so I can drop everything onto the lawn before I scramble down." A dry chuckle picked its way through the cold air. "You think you can call in reinforcements before I'm gone if everyone inside's trying to find their flashlights, calm down the scaredy cats, and figure out what you're doing out of your room in the middle of the night in the first place? You seem to get such a kick out of stalking me, lets see what you find to do with your time when I'm gone."

Murdock sighed heavily, sat up straight, closed his eyes, and started reciting in a dry voice a spiel that sounded as if he'd had it memorized by rote. "The patient suffers from anxiety attacks, intermittent memory loss, schizophrenia, paranoia, nightmares, occasional night terrors, suicidal tendencies especially prevalent when first admitted, lapses in ability to discern reality from fantasy, flashbacks, and visual/auditory/tactile/olfactory hallucinations." He hung his head sadly. "A lot of those come with violent episodes too, especially if I don't know where I am at the time."

"Dang, no wonder they keep you under lock and key. You sound like a Psych 101 textbook."

He slumped and looked at her from under the brim of his cap. "Well, Grandma Murdock always told me to never do anythin' halfway." He grimaced. "Though I don't think that was quite what she meant when she said it."

"So what are the lamrons in the clean white coats doing for you here?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Lamrons?"

"Those weirdly sane folk that generally creep me out more than the crazies I know." She shrugged. "Lamron is just 'normal' spelled in reverse."

He sat up again and smiled wanly at her before answering. "Well, I think yours truly has been through every drug they stock in the infirmary. Sometimes they help, sometimes they don't," he took a breath, "sometimes they just make things worse. The staff at this point seem to agree with your solution to the really bad days, trank me and hope it's better when I wake up." Sighing, he rubbed absently at the back of his neck with one hand. "Therapy was a joke at first, it was only a little while ago that I finally got a Doc that actually seems to know what he's doin' and sees through the little shows I put on. I suppose that the rest of them thought they were helping but I just ended up telling them what they wanted to hear to get them off my back." He chuckled quietly to himself. "That'll teach 'em to leave psychology texts in the readin' room."

She smiled wistfully. "It must be nice having someone that actually gives a shit."

"Yes and no." Murdock stretched as he elaborated. "I mean I'm glad the Doc cares, and some days it does make things easier, but I've also got to keep my guard up all the time." He lowered his voice and added, "This one's a lil' too smart for his own good sometimes."

Her reply was laced with sarcasm. "What, you've got some secret identity you've got to keep quiet and you're afraid he'll find out you're a superhero or something?"

Murdock grinned at her. "Sweetheart, you have no idea."

"Okay, Clark Kent, I've got a question for you. Doesn't anyone ever look at you strangely when you're stripping in a phone booth?"

Murdock's laugh echoed into the night a bit louder than he'd intended. "I'm less of a tights and more of a skirt type, unfortunately. Somehow I keep endin' up in dresses."

A quiet smirk crossed her lips. "Aw, and I bet you make just the prettiest little girl."

The look in his eyes conveyed his discomfort. "Keep that under your hat, would you? I'd never live it down if the rest of the legumes down there found out."

"Watch out, kid, now I've got something on you. Maybe it's time you high-tailed it out of here before I decide to get nasty and start spreading rumors about the cross-dressing nutcase."

Murdock looked pained. "But I'm having fun."

"Tough. Get packing, I'm not going to spend the night up here. I'll catch my death of cold and then I'm really screwed."

He winked. "You could invite your old friend in for a cup of tea."

"Now you're just pushing your luck. Piss off before I decide that you really do deserve the thrashing I was going to give you when I first got up here."

Pouting, he replied, "You, little girl, are just no fun."

"Good, maybe you'll get bored and quit stalking me."

Murdock stood reluctantly and then sketched an impromptu bow. "Goodnight then fair maiden. I leave you to... whatever it is you do down there."

She stretched out an arm and pointed at the stairwell door silently.

"Okay, I'm a-gettin'." He sulked off despondently.

"Good riddance."

Slipping his lockpicks into the door he turned to watch her click open the padlock and tossed out over his shoulder, "See you tomorrow!"

As the hatch closed behind her the night air carried to him another comment laced with sarcasm. "Lucky me."

* * *

Author's Notes:

I'm back! The trip was great, the wedding was gorgeous, and now I'm happy to be back in my own home where I can focus on writing in-between catching up on all the laundry we brought back with us. It was cold up north and I don't think I have a single clean sweater left!

I'd like to take a moment to offer big hearty welcomes to my newest reviewers Forgottengargoyle and MarsPFlyer!

MarsPFlyer has piloting experience and I was incredibly happy that I managed to make the story Murdock tells about his radio going out while he was airborne 'fly' (pardon the pun) for someone who actually knows what they're talking about.

Forgottengargoyle brought up several excellent points which I'm going to respond to in this segment, so if you're just here for the story you're welcome to stop reading at this point and just sit back to wait for the next installment as this is going to be a very long and drawn-out author's note.

I'm going to begin with the closing line of the review as it will act nicely as a springboard for my comments.

**_"All in all, this is good. I think you probably need some tightening, but I can see you published."_**

*does a little self-congratulatory happy dance* I have been published in the past, but it's been of the 'put bread on the table' variety and hardly anything I'd ever feel a burning desire to go back and read again. I'm so very glad you think I have the seeds of enough talent to have my fiction published someday as this fanfic is a writing exercise that I've assigned myself.

I've been working on an actual novel (totally unrelated to The A-Team) that, while intended to be still be a fun read laced with humor and adventure, will also touch upon topics such as child abuse, homelessness, and mental illness. I'm still in the very early stages and have been focusing mainly on research (I'm big on research, if I make a mistake I want it to be an honest mistake, not a mistake born of laziness and apathy) and am just now getting into the first stages of character development.

The characters range from 'typical' through 'slightly unbalanced' to 'utterly and violently disturbed', and I know myself well enough to realize that I deal much better with this stage of creativity by writing out scenes on the fly than I am with just making a dry list of character traits.

I took some very embryonic character concepts, threw them into a mental blender, transplanted them into a fanfiction venue, and just started mashing on the keyboard to see where they'd take me. My hopes for this piece is that, when all is said and done, I'll be able to look back and see what worked, what didn't, what I need to expand, what I need to tone down, what pieces I could incorporate into the book, and what sort of scenes/characters/dialogue my readers would like to see more of.

This exercise became an A-Team fic for several reasons:

1: I wanted people to read and respond and I knew that there was already an excellent fan base in place.

2: Since I was playing with the beginnings of mentally ill characters I wanted it to be set in a psychiatric ward of some sort.

3: I've always wanted an opportunity to "write Murdock" as he's such a brilliant character and I hope one day to be able to create someone even half as interesting and well-loved by fans.

In the past I've written numerous short stories but refused to let anyone read them until I had finished, at the very least, a bare-bones rough draft of the entire work. This time I chose to change my tactics and post each chapter as it was completed in order to receive feedback that could be incorporated as it progressed. Despite the fact that this change in technique is very daunting I'm finding that it works wonderfully thanks to my many marvelous reviewers!

**_"Behl is a great character. Very nicely written, and indeed, well formed. However, while the dialogue is fascinating (and well done) it's too straining..."_**

This is exactly what I'm looking for in a review! Things such as "Behl-speak" are one of the reasons I'm writing this exercise. In the original incarnation of character development I had planned for one of the secondary characters to speak in this format. Because of this story I've decided to relegate this odd speech pattern to a very minor character who will be seen only a few times. This way I can add a bit of verbal spice but still keep it from being migraine inducing for my readers (and myself, as Behl's dialogue takes three times as long to write as anyone else's!).

**_"Murdock - I can tell you have him down. I'm not sure if it's the tone of the story, but you seem to only scratch the surface of his psyche. He's not "FUN crazy" as you said. Murdock is driven by a deeply inset trauma... a trauma that I sense you know and understand. Yet for some reason, you seem to veer away from this darkness inside of him. I wish you would investigate this darkness further, because I think you would do it justice."_**

I think we may simply have different definitions of "fun crazy". I'm not referring to the one-dimensional 'wacky and silly crazies' that are often found in fiction where they exist only to provide a comic foil for the other characters. I'm referring to the fact that Murdock is still capable of functioning, at least on a semi-regular basis, retaining a zest for life and an incredible sense of humor despite his illness.

I've known people so mired in their own mental instability that their idea of a good time is figuring out the best way to snap a stolen paper-clip in half in order to maximize the pain and blood loss when, locked in their room in the depths of the night, they begin to carve themselves up. I consider those people to be 'scary crazy' and feel the need to keep my guard up at all times when I'm with them lest I say or do anything that might make their plight even worse. People I consider 'fun crazy' are the types I'd enjoy spending time with just to see what they come up with next because they see the world so differently than everyone else around them. These are the people with whom one enjoys the good days and does their best to help with the bad days when they do come around (because they will and they're generally pretty nightmarish).

Your timing with this comment was excellent as this chapter was originally intended to shed light on why Ness was living as she does when she's obviously intelligent enough to make it in the real world. Because of this review I shied away from just having her talk about her own illness and instead made it more of a give-and-take with Murdock so we could take a peek into his psyche as well. It's hardly what I'd consider 'dark', though I think I'll have Murdock give out some more details about his inner demons in a later chapter, but the little glimpses we do see are all things actually endured by those who are mentally ill. I speak from experience as nearly every detail I included has happened to me personally at some point.

I don't actually intend to delve into the real darkness of mental illness in this story but if my readers are interested in watching this progress I'd be more than happy to set subsequent exercises in the A-Team universe as I begin to focus on more than the basics. Everyone, please feel free to speak up if you'd like to see this, I'm all about fan-service!

**_"On a personal note, remember that Murdock is from Texas, not the South. It's two completely different accents, and trust me when I say that Southern readers are extremely insulted by the (mis)use of words. I'm glad you toned down the drawl. *smile* Also, I was thrilled to hear you say this: "hearing' the dialogue in my head to make sure it sounds right." That is, of course, mostly what I lecture on. That said, remember that commas are a slight hesitation, so don't throw them around all willy-nilly."_**

*stands up, picks imaginary lint from sleeve, looks around nervously* "Hi, my name is Shady and I'm a comma-a-holic." Seriously, though, I'll keep an eye on that. As for the accent, I'm a west-coast-born-and-bred girl who wouldn't know a southern accent from a Texan accent if one bit me on the butt so I've been basing Murdock's dialogue on what I can imagine 'hearing' the character say. If I re-read something and my inner voice says, "Wait a minute, that doesn't sound like him at all." I'll scrap the line and start over. Hopefully, by doing this, I've been able to keep the accent Texan, but if anyone more familiar than I am with it spots anything that needs help please drop me a line by clicking on that little 'review' button. I've read too much fanfiction in which the character 'sounds' wrong (or, worse yet, sounds exactly like all the other characters so that you can't tell who's speaking unless the author starts with something like, "Murdock glanced up and said, "...") and it's not just A-Team fiction by any stretch of the imagination, I see it everywhere.

**_"Is this story supposed to be solely a dialogue? It seems you shy away from descriptive text. Which confuses me; the text in here is excellent. So I know you can do it. But for some reason, you tend to have dialogue in scenes where the reader needs, and wants, more description. I think you should try to write the story as the dialogue dictates, then come back and fill in the descriptions. It's much easier to write this way, especially if you are dialogue-driven."_**

When I began this story, one of the things I wanted to practice was dialogue. It was, in fact, originally intended to be primarily dialogue-driven, but as time went by I decided that I didn't like the 'feel' of it and began expanding it to include more descriptive text. I actually intend, once this story is completed, to go back through and revamp it while variously expanding, simplifying, altering, and so forth. If all goes as planned someone who stumbles across this story a few months from now will get a decidedly different experience that those who found it as it was being posted. In my opinion a good story is one that is never truly finished as there's always some way to make it even better.

**_"The only other piece of advice I want to give you is to never, ever capitalize words in fiction. First of all, you are an excellent writer. You must trust the reader to know and understand the word needs emphasis. And I can say, with confidence, the reader will know. That is how good you are. But capitalizing words is the sure sign of an amateur and I don't want you to be labeled like that."_**

First off, I revel in the praise! *more happy dancing* It's very difficult, when proofreading a scene, to feel confident that I'm getting across what I'm trying to get across. I'll keep an eye on this in the future.

Wow, this practically turned into a novel in-and-of itself! Forgottengargoyle, thank you so much for the feedback and please tell your 'gnomish scout' that I truly appreciate the fact that they brought this story to your attention. As for my other loyal readers, if you stuck around this far please give yourselves a great big round of applause and I'll see you in the next chapter where we'll start to see what evil plans The Mammoth has been hatching lately!


	17. Field Trip

Chapter 17: Field Trip

* * *

October 9th

3:09 p.m.

* * *

Twitches and mumbles, two wheelchairs and seven missing limbs, attire ranging from jeans to scrubs to fatigues to foul-smelling sweatclothes. A jumble of patients milled noisily around the confines of the large room. Some chattered excitedly and some paced along the walls as the time to leave the secure confines of the ward they lived and breathed each day approached. In the center of the room, surrounded by nearly empty tables and even emptier steam trays, Murdock was bouncing up and down excitedly. "This is gonna be great."

The old man sneered. "Iths thupid. Why'd they thimk we'd wamma go thee this thimg, amyway."

"Oh, c'mon Behl, it's a chance to get out and explore the world. Expand your horizons. Seek adventure." He gestured grandly. "Grab at life with both hands and hold on for the ride!"

Behl sniffed loudly to the burbling accompaniment of thick mucus rolling back into his head and coughed once. "Iths ah movie schnowt. Hell, iths ah kidth's movie."

"Don't be like that, buddy." He slapped Behl on the back. "It'll be fun! Even if you don't like the film at least you get to leave the V.A. for a few hours." He leaned closer and his eyes widened above his grin. "I wonder if they're gonna buy us popcorn and a soda. Hey, maybe I can sweet talk one of the chaperons into buyin' me some gobstoppers!" Draping an arm over his friend's stooped shoulders he glanced around casually for any eavesdroppers and whispered, "Stay away from the hot dogs though, there's nothin' scarier than movie theater hot dogs."

"Ah hate iht when they dethide ta do thith schtuff. Ith there ah quotha ohn annoying uth?"

"Beats me." He shrugged. "Personally I'm thinkin' that Admin's tryin' to score brownie points for when state inspection time comes 'round in a couple weeks."

Behl dragged his tongue across his lips noisily. "Dahmn penthil puthers."

Murdock pulled his arm back and playfully elbowed the older man. "Aw, give it a rest, I've been lookin' forward to this. Even been on my best behavior all week so don't go spoilin' it for me."

"Yeah Behl, he's been a good little boy so let him see his cartoon in peace." came a deep voice from behind them.

Murdock tensed and shot a murderous glare over his shoulder at the man. "Go away."

The Mammoth put on his sweetest smile. "What and miss all the excitement? You're no fun, Murdock."

Casting a swift glance around the room Murdock realized that the three other staff members assigned to Psych that day, one pulled in to cover Mackie's day off and two drafted to act as chaperons for their upcoming adventure, were out of sight and presumably in the midst of herding the last of the ward's residents into the cafeteria in final preparation for the afternoon's activities.

He swung his gaze back to the offending arrival and narrowed his eyes. "Wolf among the lambs, huh? So glad you're keepin' an eye on us. C'mon, Behl." he said, putting a reassuring hand on the smaller man's upper arm and trying to guide them away into the relative anonymity of the crowd.

The Mammoth grabbed at the back of Behl's shirt and bared his teeth in anticipation. "Where you two going? Off for a little make-out session before the previews?"

"Fuhck ofth."

Murdock reached over and pulled The Mammoth's large hand from Behl's shirt. "Don't listen to him, he's just tryin' to get ya riled up."

The Mammoth wasn't going to let the opening slip by and he locked his eyes with Behl's red and watery stare. "You know what they're saying about you two, right?" he confided in a low voice. "Spending so much time together." He shot a sideways glance at the seething pilot. "Murdock always in your room at all hours. You like the younger ones, Behl?"

The old man clenched his fists and stepped forward. "Yer suth ah bathtard. They thimk weh're the derahmthed ometh?"

The orderly cast a brief glance between the pair and blinked innocently as he ventured, "Can't see what Murdock likes about you though, unless the lack of teeth-"

He didn't even try to dodge Murdock's punch. It wasn't until they'd tussled for a moment and The Mammoth shouted, "I need a trank!" that Murdock registered the true impact of his response.

"You set me up!" he growled as the larger man tried to maneuver him into position for the injection. "You waited until one of them walked in the door and you set me up!" He tried to break from The Mammoth's grip as one of the staff scrambled into the hallway for a few moments and then returned to rush forward with the syringe. "No, he started it. He did this on purpose! Let me GO you walkin' monstrosity!"

The other two staff members shot into the room, alarmed by the yelling. They threw themselves into the fray, finally pinning Murdock to the floor as he howled at them indignantly.

"Now Captain, settle down." Murdock winced, partly from The Mammoth's sugary tone and partly from the sting as the needle pierced his skin and the plunger was driven home. "I know you've been excited all day but maybe it's time for a little nap."

Behl stalked forward, irate, spittle flying from his lips as he pointed a gnarled finger into the face of the young woman with the syringe. "Ihts nowt him. Iths thath whalkim trath heap." He swung his arms wildly. "Schnowt dihdm'th do amythimg!"

She looked stricken and backed away with wide eyes. "I'm sorry, sir, but I can't understand a word you're saying."

"Behl." Murdock's words began to slur and his accent thickened as he slumped resignedly in the grip of the three people holding him tightly. "It's not ah big deal. Git goin'. Go see tha movie fer me an' tell me what happens, 'kay?"

"Gawd, schnowt, ahm thorry. Ah didm't-"

"Jus' git."

Behl looked crestfallen as the woman put an arm around his shoulders and led him away.

Murdock closed his eyes and tilted his head back as he felt the sedative continue its weaving dance through his body. "Set me up." he muttered as his breathing slowed and his legs began to succumb to a decidedly rubbery sensation.

The Mammoth finally released his grip and nodded at the others to do the same. "Someone take him back to his room, I think he's had enough for one day."

The large man watched pointedly as Murdock was hauled off and then cast a patently sympathetic glance at the remaining chaperon. "Well, this puts a little crimp in our plans for the day, huh?"

* * *

Author's Note:

Poor Murdock's gonna miss his movie. Well, him and whatever staff member they leave behind since a patient can't be left alone in the ward unattended.

Oh, wait... This isn't going to end well, is it?


	18. Restraint

Chapter 18: Restraint

* * *

October 9th

3:52 p.m.

* * *

Murdock moaned miserably and curled his arms around his pillow, feeling the medication tug him closer to oblivion. He didn't even look up when he heard someone come into the room.

"Guess you're not going along on the field trip, huh?"

Murdock twisted his head to look at the door groggily and his eyes widened. The Mammoth stood framed in the doorway, the old army-green duffel bag that was slung casually over one beefy shoulder cutting into the fabric of his strark white hospital uniform, and a look in his eyes that sent a chill through the figure lying on the bed.

"A real shame, too," he said in mock sympathy, "because now I don't get to go either. Someone's gotta stick around and babysit." He shrugged his massive shoulders and leaned against the door frame. "Don't worry, I'll forgive you for that, I'm not a big fan of G-rated flicks anyway."

Murdock's tongue felt thick in his mouth as he tried to form words around the sedative that was weaving itself around his brain. "They left ya. They left ya here with me."

"I volunteered. Ain't I a nice guy? The kids they pulled in for the day sure seemed to think so." He stepped from the doorway and swaggered into the room, casting a not-quite-casual glance around him, keeping himself between Murdock and the door until he stood at the side of the bed and its glaring occupant. He nailed Murdock with his gaze. "I was hoping that you and me could have a nice little chat, seeing as how we've got the whole ward to ourselves for a couple hours."

"Whatcha wanna talk about?" Murdock asked, trying to keep his voice steady while taking the opportunity to slowly swing his legs off the side of the bed and shakily push himself upright.

"Research."

"Research?" He chuckled dryly. "That never really struck me as your forte."

"Can't say I'm big on studying but it turns out that it's actually quite a bit of fun if you're reading something really interesting."

He slipped the bag off his shoulder and unzipped it slowly. "In fact, I brought a few presents for my favorite patient. Been hauling them around for weeks now, just waiting for the right moment to share them with you."

The moment Murdock saw the restraints he put everything he had into a tackle, launching himself from where he was seated on the bed and hoping to make it to the door before The Mammoth realized he was being locked in, but even with adrenalin and years of training on his side the shot and The Mammoth's huge bulk worked against him and he found himself being flung less than gently back onto the bed.

"Now, you see, that's exactly what these are for. Gotta keep those violent tendencies in check, don't want you hurting yourself."

He shoved a knee into Murdock's stomach and trapped his right forearm in a brutal grip, slipping the tan leather cuff into place and cinching it tightly before winding the affixed strap into the edge of the bed frame and lashing it down. "There, now, one down and three to go."

Murdock struck and clawed with his free hand while attempting to buck the larger man off, trying to shout for help despite the air being forced out of him.

The Mammoth caught the other arm, laughing. "Go ahead and make all the noise you want, ain't nobody listening."

He made short work of the left hand as well, dodging Murdock's attempts to bite him as he leaned forward to reach the bed frame on the opposite side. He found the legs more difficult and Murdock got in a few good kicks, one of which sent his left shoe skidding across the floor, before The Mammoth finished, but then he found himself helpless at the hands of his tormentor, twisting and bucking in a futile attempt to slip free.

"Okay, I give up. Joke's over. You've got poor lil' Murdock right where you want him, congratulations." he hissed.

The Mammoth's sick grin was wider than ever. "Oh, it's not over by a long shot." He stabbed a finger at him repeatedly as if trying to drive his point home. "You've been getting in my face since day one and I'm getting tired of you talking to that Doctor of yours about me too. Oh, yeah, I know you've been, he's been watching me like a hawk. He's even got Mackie eyeballing me like he's just waiting for me to let my guard down." He leaned in, bracing one hand on either side of the mattress near Murdock's chest to whisper into his face, "I'm finished tip-toeing around, watching my step, moving under their radar, getting to you just long enough to get a taste of fun just to have you slip away at the last second. You're luck's run out and I'm here to collect."

Murdock's eyes watched him intently as he righted himself and retrieved the bag from the floor. When he continued his voice seemed almost sad, as if he were lecturing a wayward child who had disappointed him. "I like this job, really I do. Hours are good, pay's nice, never had a job with benefits before. I don't want to go back to grilling burgers. But you," his face twisted as he spoke and his voice loft its softness, "just keep getting in my way. Why couldn't you leave well enough alone?"

Raising his head, Murdock locked eyes with him and drilled into him with an angry stare. "Because you're a waste of human flesh and I'm not gonna sit back and watch you treat people like you do. You're gonna be out of here when they find out about this." He tried to shrug despite the restraints. "What are you gonna do, beat me to a pulp? C'mon, go ahead, it's not like I'm much of a threat right now. Tied down and drugged, I'll bet you've been looking forward to this for a while."

Murdock grinned maniacally before continuing. "I can't wait to see you explain to them why a resident left in your care looks like he got used as a punching bag." Then he laughed, a disturbed sound that masked his nervousness with bravado. "Don't let the door hit your backside on the way out."

The Mammoth responded with a knowing smile. "That's where my research came in. I went to the library a while back, can you imagine me in a library? Haven't set foot in once since grade school. Told the pretty little girl at the desk that I was helping out a writer friend of mine." He paused to savor the moment. "Told her that he needed to know about ways 'to inflict large amounts of pain with minimal damage'. Learned something very interesting."

He reached past the zipper and pulled something from the bag slowly. The heavy-duty extension cord made a soft hissing noise as he slid it past the canvas, long coils dropping to the linoleum, snakelike and sinister. Isolating the two ends, The Mammoth held both up for inspection. One remained intact, an innocuous looking plug. The other had been cut down and the two segments separated for several feet of its length, wires stripped of their insulation. One wire extended past its housing for a good eighteen inches while the other was merely an inch-long tongue of metal.

"You see, we can't have them finding their sweet little Murdock covered with bruises and sporting a few broken bones when they get back, but the thought of making you squirm for a couple of hours sure puts a smile on my face." He demonstrated with a leering grin, full of dangerous promises.

Murdock didn't pull his eyes from him as The Mammoth casually strode over to the wall and slipped the plug into the socket.

Smiling evilly and taking care to keep the shorter of the two naked wires clear of himself he reached over to Murdock's shoeless foot and, yanking the top of his sock free from where it was pinned by the restraint, he slid it down to wrap the longer of the two lengths of metal around his ankle tightly.

Murdock attempted to dissuade him, adopting a bored tone. "Not very inventive. I knew some people once in the jungle that did it better, they used capacitors. All the bite and you had to listen to it recharge itself between uses. Now that's the kind of music you hear in your nightmares." He flashed a grin. "You should just go home and come up with something more interesting."

"Oh, I think this will do just fine. With the ground around your ankle all I have to do it pick a nice spot for the other end." He waved the hand holding the as-yet-unplaced wire in the air a few inches over Murdock's prone form. "The electricity will create a pathway between the two and while it might not be fancy, it'll do more than tickle." He paused and reached for the bag once more. "I learned another neat little trick, too."

He pulled a bottle out of the bag and gave it a shake. "Olive oil. Keeps the skin from burning. Can't have barbequed Captain on the menu tonight, wouldn't look good." A thoughtful expression passed quickly over his face. "Besides, the ward would smell for weeks." He stepped up to the edge of the mattress and raked his eyes over the struggling figure from head to toe. "This is going to be very painful, but-" he paused significantly, "if I do this right there won't be a mark on you. Guess they were right, learning can be fun."

Murdock's wide eyes were still fixed on the cord that was held so reverently in The Mammoth's huge hand. "You don't want to do this."

The Mammoth tucked the bottle of olive oil into the crook of the arm that held the home-made device and unscrewed the cap with his free hand. "No, you don't want me to do this."

His breathing quickening, Murdock tried to bide for time. "You can't seriously think I'm not gonna tell anyone."

"Nobody listens to you, Murdock. Haven't you figured that out by now. You're just one of the crazies."

Pulling even harder at the restaints in a determined but futile attempt to regain his freedom, Murdock could only steel his voice and counter with, "I've got friends that aren't gonna take too kindly to findin' out you did this. Just drop it. Just put it all away and walk out and we'll forget about all of it."

The Mammoth grasped a handful of fabric and eased up the bottom edge of Murdock's shirt almost lovingly. "I can't use it in the same spot for very long but we'll have plenty of time to explore the possibilities." He threw his victim a chilling wink. "I'll be nice and start someplace easy."

The oil left tendrils of tickling chill as The Mammoth poured a generous amount over his stomach, and as the first sharp bite of electricity met the bare skin just above his waistband and skittered its way southward, Murdock heard alarm bells echoing in his mind as he threw back his head and let out a desperate piercing howl.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Oh crap.

(Many thanks to The Alpha for providing technical details.)


	19. The Man Of A Thousand Voices

Important note: Chapter 18 has been partially re-written!

If you read the 'cattle prod' version, please revisit the previous chapter for changes.

* * *

Chapter 19: The Man Of A Thousand Voices

* * *

October 9th

4:08 p.m.

* * *

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me!"

The Mammoth flung himself upright, letting fly with a string of curses. He rushed to the wall socket in a frenzy, pulled the plug, and then dashed back to the bed to yank at the loop of metal around Murdock's ankle, pulling with enough force to leave a thin welt on the skin. The extension cord fought him like something alive as he tried to slide the loose coils back into the bag, and when he finally succeeded he screwed the lid back onto the olive oil before throwing it in as well and began hurridly unstrapping the restraints holding Murdock down.

Shaking, Murdock watched him, incredulous, until it finally sank in that the clamoring noise which had accompanied his scream wasn't in his head.

"Fire." he gasped. "Fire alarm."

"Shut up!" The last of the restraints back in his bag, The Mammoth heaved Murdock to his feet roughly and shoved him in the direction of the hallway. "Walk."

Murdock stumbled unsteadily down the hall, one hand on the wall for support as his drugged body fought against him. He finally fell to his knees on the lawn where the dampness soaked through his slacks and into his sock, dwarfed by a crowd of people milling around him with residents from the other wards babbling excitedly as staff dashed around trying to take a head count.

Murdock planted one hand into the grass to keep his balance and pressed the other against his stomach where the front of his t-shirt clung to him in an oily embrace. Breathing heavily and fighting a wave of nausea he watched The Mammoth blend away into the mass of humanity and raised his eyes to scan the area. There, on the sidewalk that bordered the edge of the V.A. grounds, lurking amongst a growing group of spectators drawn by the sound of the alarm, he found what he was looking for.

He couldn't see her face from this distance but her body language told him all he needed to know.

She was furious.

* * *

October 9th

5:17 p.m.

* * *

Murdock listened to the click of the padlock and pulled his fingers back before descending the rungs slowly and cautiously, narrowing his focus so that his attention was fixed solely on where he placed his hands and feet. The remnants of the sedative were still fighting his body for control but he refused to let it deter him.

Reaching the bottom he paused for several moments before stepping up onto the pipes and reaching up for a handhold in order to hoist himself into the crawlspace, but he stopped short as he caught movement in the dark and heard a low growl weave its way into the maintenance shaft.

"Ness?" Squinting, he could make out a shape curled up just inside the shaft. "You okay in there?"

Another growl came in response and he lowered himself to the floor as a shaky voice finally answered, "No."

"What's goin' on, sweetheart?"

A backpack slid off the edge and hit the ground with a dull thud as a pair of long legs swung out of the crawlspace and dangled in mid-air for a moment. The rest of her followed suit a moment later and Murdock reached forward to help as she lost her footing on the pipes at the bottom and plummeted gracelessly the last few feet to land in an undignified heap on the concrete.

Her eyes were wild as she reacted to his outstretched hand and hissed menacingly.

Murdock pulled away and backed against the far wall to give her space. "Ness?" he asked, concerned, as she pulled herself into a sitting position and rested her back against the wall, lips pulled from her teeth in a grimace of pain, her breath coming in small fast pants. Her arm raised in a series of jerky movements to tap less than gently at her forehead. "No. No... touch." The grimace deepened. "Hurts."

His voice was a whisper as he took in her unfocused and barely blinking stare, locked somewhere just over his right shoulder. "It's not from the fall, is it?"

Another low growl, this one of affirmation.

Stepping forward cautiously, he crouched down at a point half-way across the small room. "C'mon, your ol' buddy Murdock's gonna make it better. What do you need me to do?"

She moved jerkily, motioning to her backpack and bringing two fingers up to her lips. Murdock moved slowly, watching her face for any sudden reaction, and cautiously began unzipping the pockets and rummaging through the contents. He came across a beat-up cigarette case and held it up for her inspection. "You want a smoke?"

A nod that was simply a downward dip of the chin. He popped open the case and wrinkled his nose at the odor. "Dang, girl, these smell horrible. What's in them?"

She struggled to make the words. "Can. Can ahb."

"Cannabis? Honey, I don't know who told you this was pot but they were jerking you around."

A short jerky shake of the head once right and once left signaled 'no' as she slowly sounded out the word. "Can ah bah lized. Butts. Roll."

He nodded in understanding. "You collect people's leftovers and roll them into new cigarettes. Economical if hardly fragrant." More rummaging found a lighter at the bottom of the same pocket and he slipped one of the foul-smelling sticks into his mouth and lit it before passing it over to her. Her hand was trembling as she took it and the first drag was long and hard.

"Tell you what, tomorrow I have to out of town with some friends for a while. How about I bring you back some smokes that don't taste like the back end of a wet dog?" He smiled at her.

"More. Pre-sents." She closed her eyes while taking another drag and then lowered her chin to her chest before admitting, "Pre-ci-ate."

"No problem." He sat back in the corner and watched her smoke. "I owe you one."

She winced. "Shh. Loud." She gestured clumsily past the confines of the shaft with what was left of her cigarette and then vaguely at her own head. "People."

"'Scuse me?"

"People. Sidewalk. Yard. Loud."

"I know, I saw you out there. That's why you're like this, isn't it? Because you were around them?"

The nod was a bit smoother this time. "Hurts. Words in." She tapped clumsily at her forehead. "Not here." She motioned to her mouth.

"Why, when you knew this was going to happen?"

"Make sure."

"You risked this," he gestured at her, "just to make sure I was okay?" He paused for a moment and grinned. "I knew my sweet disposition would eventually break through that tough exterior of yours."

"Bag."

He shot her a look of confusion. "Hey, now, no reason to start callin' me names."

She didn't look amused. He tried again, grasping the straps of the backpack and holding it out to her. "This bag?"

"No. 'Bacco. Get bag. Cheaper."

He smirked as put the pack back down onto the floor and put on his announcer's voice. "We now return to Lack Of Attention Span Theater, already in progress."

She exhaled twice, sharply, the closest equivalent to a laugh she could muster under the circumstances. "Like."

"What do you like?"

She ground what was left of the cigarette out against the wall and leaned her head back against the concrete. "Voices."

Murdock beamed. "Oh, you gotta love voices, lil' girl. You know who Mel Blanc is?"

She responded with another jerky nod.

"He's one of my heroes. They call him The Man Of A Thousand Voices and he can do anythin', I'm just a two-bit charlatan next to him." Murdock spent the next few minutes running through his repertoire, a snippet of a line here, a catch-phrase there, accents and tones adopted and cast aside rapid-fire as an inner light danced in his eyes.

He tilted his head and inquired. "Do you know about the accident?"

"Accident?"

"It was back in the early sixties. He was in a car accident that left him in a coma, and nobody could get through to him until one of the doctors decided to be a smart ass and asked him, "How are you today, Bugs Bunny?" To everyone's surprise, he starts talkin' to the doctor in his Bugs Bunny voice. Couldn't get a peep out of him otherwise, but there was Bugs talkin' up a storm as he laid there in the bed." He tipped her a wink. "Now that's dedication."

He chuckled at himself. "There I was, all of thirteen years old, knowin' that my hero was in the hospital and chompin' at the bit for a way to help. I wrote him a get-well card but I didn't know the address so I wrote on the envelope: Bugs Bunny, Hollywood USA."

"He... get it?"

Murdock had watched her as he spoke, noting that her eyes, though still dazed, had finally begun to focus on his face instead of the machinery behind him. "I like to think so. He was under for three weeks and came to just about the time my card would have arrived." Another self-depreciating chuckle. "I always liked to think it was me who brought him back. I couldn't bear the thought of no more Mel Blanc cartoons, he's just too brilliant." Murdock began ticking off a list on his long fingers. "Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Woody Woodpecker, Barney Rubble, Yosemite Sam, Captain Caveman, Mr. Spacely, Marvin The Martian... the list just goes on forever."

"He even did Pepe le Pew." Murdock cleared his throat and presented her with a very passable imitation. "Oh ho, she is shy! Where are you my little gumbo of chicken? You french fried shrimp is sizzling for you."

She awarded him with a faint smile. "The 'gumbo of chicken' wants another smoke."

His own smile tried to light up the dim space as he handed over the cigarettes. "Glad to see you're back with us."

"Not yet," she took the case and clumsily retrieved and tried to light another cigarette, "but I'm doing a hell of a lot better than when you came in." She flicked the lighter repeatedly and then handed it to Murdock with a sigh. "My mouth may be getting orders from my brain again but my fingers are still AWOL, light this damned thing, will you?"

Murdock settled himself close, took the lighter, and deftly slid his thumb over the flint wheel to bring the flame to life. She leaned in and drew in deeply until the tip glowed and then sat up with the cigarette between her fingers to roll her head on her neck, punctuating the cool air with several popping noises. "At least the muscles are starting to relax. Nothing like a nice juicy panic attack to bring on a tension headache."

Murdock rubbed at the back of his neck with one hand as he said distractedly. "Tell me about it."

Her voice was tired as she asked, "You okay? You sound weird."

He shrugged. "They doped me up a couple of hours ago. Not enough to knock me out, just enough to make me feel like I'm in one of those dreams where I'm movin' underwater." He stretched himself. "Right now I think I could nod off and sleep for days."

"You decided to crawl around on the roof and then monkey your way down here while doped up? At some point I'm going to come out here and find what's left of you on the floor, glassy eyed with your neck at a bad angle." She took another drag. "So, what'd you do to piss them off?"

Murdock rubbed at his eyes and sheepishly admitted, "One of the orderlies decided to finally let on that he's got an IQ higher than his shoe size and maneuvered it so that he'd have one hell of an advantage. Got me doped up and alone and lets just say that the two of us don't get along real well."

"I noticed. Things were all nice and quiet down here and suddenly I can hear you yelling. I couldn't catch all of what you were saying but I know that tone of voice, that's what we like to call 'shit's gone wrong'."

His response was a dry dark chuckle. "Yeah, you could put it that way."

"You okay now?"

He plastered a grin on his face. "I'm just fine sweetheart, right now I'm more worried about you."

She eyed him intently. "Are the drugs they gave you supposed to give you the shakes?"

Murdock looked down and clenched his hands. "What shakes?"

"When you handed me that first cigarette you almost dropped it. You were twitching worse than I was, and I've never heard you raise your voice before, even when I tried to take your teeth out that first night. What the hell happened up there?"

He shrugged the question off and tried to pacify her. "Nothin' you need to worry yourself about, I'm going to take care of it and it won't happen again."

Sighing, she leaned towards him. "Remember when you said you owed me? Well, I'm collecting on that debt." Murdock winced as her choice of words unintentionally mirrored The Mammoth's whisper of, "I'm here to collect." and he pressed his hand to his stomach again.

She watched the flickering of his expression. "Tell me what the fuck's going on, kid, just because I like to live in the dark doesn't mean I like to be left in it."

Murdock's brown eyes were solemn as he sat in silence for several moments. Then, with a shaky breath, he began to speak.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Sorry for the delay in posting, but a friend of mine (Who, disturbingly enough, happens to have experience with being on the receiving end of a cattle prod!) gave me a heads-up that the last chapter needed a re-write, so I had to spend some time reworking that before moving on. Hopefully the non-prod version works better.

Special thanks to Ensor, who shared with me his experience of meeting up with Reddy Kilowatt in a dark alley. Ensor, honey, you're not supposed to pee on the 'special' fences.

I need everyone to take a moment to give yourselves a rousing round of applause, "Movement In The Dark" has just surpassed 1000 hits!

I've been watching the stats for each chapter creep up every day and it looks like I've gathered about two dozen loyal readers who check for updates regularly and many more that have at least poked their head in to see what this story is all about, so its's pretty darned exciting!

Many thanks to my readers (and especially my reviewers!) and there's plenty more to come!

PS: The Pepe le Pew quote is from the Warner Bros short "Really Scent!".

Coming up next:

We get to take a peek at what's behind the "everything's just fine" demeanor that Murdock puts on for everyone when things go wrong.


	20. Challenges

Chapter 20: Challenges

* * *

October 9th

5:43 p.m.

* * *

"Wanna hear a story about voices?"

She looked up. "Sure."

"The Doc, the one I had before, was tryin' me out on all kinds of things. Was on this one that was supposed to keep 'em from having to peel me off the ceiling so much, of course this was at the point where it was just a lot of trial and error to see what helped and what didn't."

Murdock shrugged. "It worked okay at first, I was feelin' pretty damned good actually, got out of my room for the first time in ages to enjoy the sunshine." He leaned back adjusted the brim of his cap. "After I'd been on 'em for a few days I got on the phone with a friend of mine." He glanced at her. "Let's just call him "F"."

"What, don't trust me not to stalk your friends?" she asked with a slight chuckle.

He thought for a moment and then grinned at her. "Tell you what, little girl, I'll tell you his real name if you finally tell me yours."

She scowled. "No chance, you already know too much about me. "F" works just fine."

Murdock shook his head at her. "We were chatting about nothin' in particular when the voices in my head started kicking up. I didn't think anything of it at first since they're like yours, always lurking quietly in some little corner of my brain and biding their time."

He chuckled dryly. "Something was different that day. It wasn't just a jumble of noise, the usual 'thinking to myself' stuff, or those little mental recordings from the past that always pick the worst moments to start playin'. It was loud, distinct, and for the first time it started to mimic someone else. Suddenly I'm hearing two totally different F's, one still chatting at me over the phone and one in my head sayin'," he paused, "horrible things. Things that F would never say to me in a million years. The only way I could tell the difference between them was that one voice was only in my right ear over the handset and the other was coming through in stereophonic sound."

She grimaced. "I'll bet you stormed in and clamored to be pulled of that drug trial quicker than hell."

"Yeah, I told F that I had to go and spent the next half an hour curled up on my bed with my arms around my knees and my eyes clenched shut waiting for stereo-F to stop screamin' at me long enough that I could think straight, flag down a nurse, and ask them to schedule me for an emergency session. The Doc took me off 'em the next morning but whatever had clicked inside never really clicked back." His eyes were focused on something not in the room with them. "Some days pseudo-voice will pop in out of the blue and bite me on the ass just to let me know he's still in there, lil' bastard's built himself up quite an impressive repertoire of impressions over the years."

Her lips carried a wry smirk but her eyes were suspicious. "Somehow that," her eyes flicked upward, "didn't sound like you were having a one-on-one with the voices in your head."

He looked sheepish. "I was hoping to distract you."

She shook her head and gestured dramatically. "Your offering does not placate the Goddess Of Power Outages." Shooting him a dark look, she continued, "You do realize that the more you stall, the more I'm going to want to know what's going on."

Closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, Murdock sighed. "Well, then, I guess it's time to tell you a story about a guy we like to call The Mammoth."

She listened intently as he told her about the man's exploits, how he'd attempt to thwart his mundane amusements, the frustration of never being able to convince anyone of importance that the man needed to be dismissed, the close calls, and his final disturbing plan to get Murdock alone.

Her eyes were narrowed as he finished, and she said, "That was hours ago. Where the hell did you disappear to?"

"I saw you in the crowd and knew you'd raised the alarm, and that once they figured out there was no fire it would be back to him and me alone, so I went for a walk."

"Barefoot, apparently." she said, eyeing his feet.

He chuckled and wiggled his toes. "I only had one shoe on and I wasn't going back to my room to get the other one. I took it off, stuffed my socks inside, and hid it on the grounds before sneaking off in the confusion." He shot her a tired version of his usual grin before continuing.

"I figured that I couldn't go walking around with only one shoe on, I'd look like I'd just escaped from a mental institution." he finished with a wink. "I ended up at the park, found a good climbin' tree and just hid out for a while." He stretched and looked over her shoulder. "On the way back I called up some friends of mine, told them I needed to talk to them about something. Turns out that there's a job comin' up and they're gonna pick me up tomorrow." His expression hardened. "When we get back we're gonna take care of The Mammoth."

She laughed. "You've got a job? Is there a high demand for basket-weavers?"

He ducked his head and smiled knowingly. "It's a bit more complicated than that."

"I can't see you in a suit and tie working nine-to-five. What do you do?"

His lips curled up in a smile. "We go different places, help people out when they need it."

"So you're a temp? Take a lot of dictation, Mr. Secretary?" Her eyes were teasing.

An image of Hannibal shouting orders as they were pinned by gunfire flitted across his mind. "Something like that."

She shook her head and then contemplated him for several moments. "How do you do it?"

"What, dictation?" he raised an eyebrow.

"No." She took a moment to find the right words. "I can only assume you've been through hell in the past, you must have to end up here. You've got this monster on your ass in the one place you're supposed to feel safe, you end up trussed up and half-electrocuted, and you're fine. I spend five minutes outside in a crowd and I lose it."

He studied her for several beats and confessed quietly, "I'm not fine."

She sat in silence and waited for him to continue.

He crossed his arms over his chest and when he spoke again his voice was barely audible. "That's why it took me so long to get back. I felt the Purple Wobblies comin' on and I knew I had to get away before someone got hurt."

Her brow furrowed as she asked, "Purple Wobblies?"

He grimaced but continued. "Well, there's Purples and there's Wobblies. Purples are the times when things get a bit askew. Everything starts gettin' loud, like you've gone up in a plane with a head cold and you finally get your ears to pop and everything that's been muffled starts rushin' in again. You start feelin' sounds, like they're scratching up against your skin under your clothes, and you can't get away from them. Air tastes like metal, light seems too bright and too cold, and you start bouncin' off the walls."

He took a deep breath, not meeting her gaze. "You know you have to get away, keep things under control. It's better in the trees, gotta find one of those tall sturdy ones where the top branches scrape the sky like they want to play with the clouds. You wait down below until no one's lookin' and then monkey up quick as a flash so no one knows you're up there, perched out of sight, the wind pullin' at you like it's asking you to join it. It's the closest you can get to flyin' without completely leaving the ground."

He uncrossed his arms and leaned his elbows on his knees. "So there you sit, trying to ignore both the voices in your head and the ones walkin' by below, when you just want a lifeline to hold onto but you know that if anyone touches you you'll scream." He paused, taking a ragged breath. "I could never take a plane up when I'm like that, we'd never make it back down in one piece." The next pause was longer, his eyes moist, and his voice distant. "I think that's what scares me the most, that there will come a time when the Purple Wobblies won't go away any more and I'll never see the sky again."

She contemplated the man sitting in front of her. "Why do I get the feeling that I'm not even hearing the half of it? What about the Wobblies?"

He looked up at her, his dark eyes haunted. "You don't wanna hear about them, those are the days when you blink and suddenly you're in a strait-jacket with your cheek against a padded floor and someone has to come tell you what you've done this time around. Even after everything that happened this afternoon, it's still been a pretty good brain day." He held out his hand and looked at it, turning it over, clenching and unclenching his fingers. "I'm still here." he pointed out quietly.

She decided that a change of topic was in order. "Tell me everything you know about this 'Mammoth' of yours."

"Why, what are you gonna do?" He eyed her warily.

She shot him a sly grin. "First I'm going to have to clean up my bolt-hole. I made a hell of a mess."

He grinned at her, trying to throw off the weight of the previous conversation. "Finally threw that big welcome home bash?"

She scowled. "From the way you were carrying on I didn't think I had a lot of time to crawl around. I grabbed a half-dozen file boxes and threw them onto my bed so I could crawl over the rest and get to the door. I'm just glad the fire alarm was still working, half the stuff down in the basement looks like it was just left to rot after they had the big fire." She gestured up at the crawlspace. "Right now I've got about year's worth of paperwork to re-pack and my room looks like the bottom of a hamster cage."

"A year in a half-dozen boxes? No chance, some of these people write it down every time I so much as sneeze." He chuckled softly and then brought the conversation back around. "Don't go after The Mammoth. I'll take care of him."

"You?" A quick bark of disbelief shot out of her. "I swear you can't tie your own shoes half the time, what are you going to do about him?"

Looking deeply offended, he countered with, "Believe it or not I can take care of myself. I'm gonna do what I should have done before it got this bad. My friends and I are gonna take care of the problem and the last thing I need to worry about is you getting picked up by the police."

"Murdock, I'm pretty good at watching my own back and this asshole you've been playing with needs an attitude adjustment. What would have happened if I'd gone out this afternoon?" She rubbed at her temples agitatedly as if fighting off a headache. "I had planned on spending some time at the library today. If I hadn't been just a few chapters from the end of one of the books I'd wanted to return the next time I went out you'd have been screwed. You owe your ass to Stephen King right now."

He shifted himself closer to her, within arm's reach but not making any move to close the gap. Waiting until she looked up he held her eyes with his to drive home the seriousness of his words. "Just promise me that you won't do anything you'll get in trouble for."

She narrowed her eyes but didn't look away. "And you'll take care of it?" she asked dryly.

"I will."

They stared at each other in silence for several seconds before she reluctantly said, "Okay, I won't do anything I'll get in trouble for, but if this gets worse the deal's off."

"Fair enough."

"Fine," she answered in clipped tones, "then get the hell out of here, my brain's gone to shit today and I want to be alone. I can beat my head against the wall and drool on myself just fine without an audience."

Murdock looked at her for a moment and then nodded before standing once again. He silently began ascending the ladder, then paused after a half-dozen rungs to look down at her. "If you need anything, give a shout. Behl should be back soon and he knows you're down here. He'll let me know."

Nodding wearily, her eyes followed him as he returned to his climb.

She watched him intently until the closing hatch cut him from her view, then tossed her backpack into the crawlspace and hoisted herself up. Sitting at the edge she stared intently at nothing on the wall in front of her. "Don't do anything you'll get in trouble for." she whispered to herself. Her lips twisted into a sardonic grin. "Kid, you're sweet, but that just makes it more of a challenge."

* * *

Author's Notes:

Sorry for yet another delay in posting... we just spent the last two weeks trying to track down an elusive psychiatrist. (No, not Richter.)

Wow, this puts us just about two-thirds of the way through. I actually split Chapter 19 into 19/20 since I wanted to take the time to do justice to Murdock's screwed up synapses, so we're probably looking at 31 chapters in all unless I need to do another mid-chapter split.

As always, I'm amazed at the amount of readers that have made it this far and the wonderful reviews I've received. You are awesome!


	21. Professionals And Amateurs

Chapter 21: Professionals and Amateurs

* * *

November 21st

1:54 p.m.

* * *

Murdock watched his team as they prepared to leave. Hannibal was stowing the last of the weapons in the lockbox at the rear of the van. B.A. was nothing but a pair of denim-clad legs protruding from under the hood. Face was off in the distance, giving a proper farewell to the lovely lady who had hired them.

They'd been on the road for weeks on end, three missions in a row, and while everyone else was looking forward to some down-time, Murdock's urge to get home again was tempered by the knowledge that he'd finally have to come clean to the guys and ask for their help with his own not-so-little problem.

He threw two duffel bags behind the middle seats in the van and stared out the open rear doors, listening to the Colonel rearrange ammunition and trying once again to find a way to broach the subject, when he spotted a trail of dust in the distance that solidified into a line of olive green vehicles, tearing in their direction at high speed.

"Colonel!" He shouted loudly to get everyone's attention. "We've got company!"

Silver hair glinted in the sunlight as Hannibal's head shot up, then he quickly tossed armaments and ammunition into Murdock's outstretched arms and began shouting orders. B.A. slammed down the hood just as Hannibal closed the rear doors with a double thump and they were already moving by the time Face untangled himself from the lithe brunette and sprinted up. Murdock offered him a hand and yanked him into the cab just as the military police began tearing into the dirt lot and he squinted through the dust as he squeezed off several rounds into tires and engine blocks.

* * *

November 21st

2:18 p.m.

* * *

Face slammed the side door shut with a scowl and started a less-than-effective attempt to pat the dust out of his hair and off of his suit. "Hannibal, why is it that they always show up just as I'm starting to have some fun? Do you do this on purpose, call in the military just as we're getting ready to leave?"

Murdock was sitting with his right side against the back of his seat, setting safeties and stowing their weapons behind the duffel bags. He leaned forward and winked at his friend. "It's a twisted revenge for all the whining you do whenever Hannibal has us train."

Face shot him a dirty look and Hannibal grinned around his cigar as he reached into his pocket for a light. "Now, gentlemen, would I do something like that?"

All three of them glared good-naturedly at him and answered in unison. "Yes!"

Hannibal just smiled and turned back to watch the road and light his cigar, leaving them to draw their own conclusions.

A companionable silence descended as the smell of smoke wafted through the compartment and Murdock watched Face try to salvage his wardrobe and complain under his breath about the price of a good suit.

Murdock gathered his resolve and turned toward him.

"Face?"

"Yeah?"

"How much have you got stashed away for me?"

Face chuckled and concentrated on the dirt coating his left sleeve. "I'm not telling, you'll blow it all on video games."

"Is it enough to hire the team?"

Face paused, looking concerned, and turned toward him while leaning forward in his seat to close the distance between them. "Why would you need to hire the team?"

"There's this guy at the V.A. Mean ol' mudsucker the size of a house."

"Sounds like B.A." Face grinned at the back of their driver's head.

Murdock tried to keep his voice low. "B.A. would never try to electrocute a patient."

Hannibal slid the lighter into his jacket pocket and turned to look over the back of his seat at them and Murdock saw B.A.'s eyes meet his in the rear view mirror before sliding back to the road.

"Something you want to tell us about, Captain?"

Murdock looked uncomfortable and swallowed hard before answering. "I've got a friend down at the V.A. that this orderly has been getting into it with." As he filled them in on the tale of The Mammoth he watched their expressions carefully, wincing slightly as he heard B.A. grumble something about 'picking on helpless fools' but continuing on. He included all of the pertinent details, omitting only the fact that it was he, himself, that was the focal point of the bouts of retaliation.

As he finished, Hannibal puffed on his cigar and then cast a glance at the van's other occupants. "Sounds like this one'll be fun, B.A." His voice held a hint of teasing. "So close to home that you won't even have to fly." B.A. growled menacingly at him as the older man turned his blue eyes on Murdock appraisingly and his tone once again became business-like. "A little too close to home for you, Captain. I think we'll have you sit this one out, the three of us will have a talk with this orderly, straighten him out for you. Tell your friend not to worry about the fee," he watched Face start to object and silenced him with a look, "we'll call this a favor for a friend."

Murdock took a deep breath and released it slowly. "My friend and I appreciate it, Colonel."

Face leaned back in his seat, fidgeting with his cufflinks and looking petulant. "Well, another charity event. You know, Hannibal, we keep this up and we're going to be standing in line at a soup kitchen before much longer."

Hannibal drew on his cigar and smiled at Face, who crossed his arms and pouted slightly in return. Then he turned his gaze on Murdock, contemplating, brown eyes and blue communicating silently before the pilot dipped his chin in a slight nod and Hannibal blinked once in understanding. Turning back around to face the road that stretched out before them he struck up a conversation with B.A. about their route and arrival time in L.A.

Murdock smiled as he started teasing Face good-naturedly, finally allowing the tension he'd been carrying since his last encounter with The Mammoth to slowly dissipate.

* * *

November 23rd

11:13 a.m.

* * *

Murdock sauntered into the psychiatric ward, the knowledge that things would soon be put right making him happy to be home for the first time in far longer than he cared to admit. He tossed a wave to the man at the desk.

"Hey, flyboy, welcome back."

"Mornin' Mackie, I miss anything exciting?" he asked, sidling up to the station and snatching two pens from a coffee cup to start tapping out a beat on the desktop.

"Damn straight you did, we've been running our asses ragged all week. The big guy's gone."

Murdock's head whipped up and his eyes widened, impromptu drumsticks forgotten. "The Mammoth?!?"

Mackie laughed. "I still think it's hilarious that you guys all called him that. Yeah, he's outta here."

They'd just gotten back to town, there certainly hadn't been time for Hannibal to implement whatever plan he'd concocted. "I'll be damned." he responded. "Who'd he finally piss off enough to get sacked?"

"Nobody. He stormed in here a few days back madder than hell. Said that in the last few weeks his car had been broken into twice and then, the night before, someone broke into his house while he was at work and trashed the place. Started hollering about how shitty his neighborhood was and that he was moving back to his old stomping grounds where he didn't have to deal with assholes who got their kicks out of fucking with people."

Murdock slipped the pens back into the cup and shared a sneer with the other man. "Well, that's the pot callin' the kettle black."

"Tell me about it. Oh, and you've got mail." Mackie reached behind the desk and pulled out a large heavy cardboard box, handing it over. Murdock peeked inside and couldn't suppress a smile. "It's that time of the year again, huh?"

The pilot chuckled. "Yup, won't be long before I'm gummin' my jello just like Behl."

Mackie laughed. "Have a good day, flyboy."

Murdock straightened up, hefted the box into his arms, and shot the man his most dazzling smile as he headed toward his room. "Mackie, I'm havin' the best day ever."

* * *

November 23rd

11:21 a.m.

* * *

The box slid from Murdock's arms onto the mattress and he reached in to pull out the piece of paper that was resting on top of the contents.

_I don't suppose you'll actually wait until tomorrow to open these. Enjoy. ~Us_

Like some twisted cousin of a Matreshka doll the larger box contained another heavy box, this one badly wrapped in bright green butcher paper, barely held on with copious stretches of scotch tape that were occasionally marred with small fingerprints. One end had already been carefully sliced open by the staff at the V.A. and he upended it onto the bed.

Dozens upon dozens of comic books spilled out, some sliding onto the floor in their mad rush to escape, ranging from nearly mint condition to folded and dog-eared pages, a couple even missing their covers. Among them were two more parcels, one small and one relatively large, and another card. He extracted the card first and smiled at what was carefully written in child-like block lettering.

_WE TOOK UP A (here a word was scribbled out and carefully re-written) COLLECTION, HOPE YOU LIKE THEM. ~THE KIDS_

_PS: THE 'BIG GUY' SAYS TO TELL YOU IT WASN'T HIS IDEA._

He stood the card from B.A.'s Youth Center on his nightstand along with the first note and turned his attention to the two smaller packages. One was tiny, elaborately yet tastefully wrapped, and he found the open seam and slid out a black box. It was hinged and he flipped it open impatiently and took the item within into his hand to inspect it.

The lighter was metal, heavy in his palm, etched silver glinting slightly in the wan sunlight that struggled through his window. On one side the design was raised, a Mustang P-51 Series aircraft emblazoned on the metal. "Well, hello there beautiful." he whispered and struck the flint experimentally.

There was a small spark but no fire. "Yup, bastards bled you out. Couldn't have the crazies playin' with fire, could they?" He patted it gently. "That's okay, we'll get somethin' tasty inside you the next time Face drops by." Pulling a small card from the box he started to laugh as his eyes scanned the precise lettering.

_Yeah, I know, I'll bring some soon. ~F_

He put the lighter back into its box reverently and set it with his collection of cards before turning his attention to the final package.

The wrapping was simple, plain white paper that crinkled at the opened edge. He grasped the two items inside and slid them out, smiling at the topmost of the two whose cover showed an aircraft in flight, propeller blurred slightly against the red-painted nose. "P-47 Thunderbolt At War" he read aloud, and then slipped the first book behind the second. "Air Power - A Modern Illustrated Military History." He nodded appreciatively and then flipped through both quickly, looking for a card.

No card was forthcoming, although half-way through "Air Power" he discovered a glossy though slightly worn sheet of paper, folded into fourths and tucked between the pages. He unfolded it gingerly, noting that the creases were definitely not recent. His grin broadened as he realized that he held in his hand a page from a magazine from the 1940's adorned with a leggy brunette reclining on a non-existent background smiling up at him.

"First printing of a Vargas Girl. Hannibal, where did you even _find_ this?" He smiled at the empty room. "Food for the mind _and_ the soul, sounds just like you Colonel." He carefully refolded the image and tucked it back between the pages, setting the books aside for a moment as he contemplated the explosion of comics on and around his bed. "But first, I think I spy me some food for my inner child." He picked up an issue at random, cleared off a small corner of the mattress, and planted himself cross-legged on the bed as he began to read.

* * *

November 24th

1:14 a.m.

* * *

The night air was crisp but Murdock's smile was warm as the figure hauled itself over the ledge and onto the rooftop.

"Hey, stranger, long time no see." he greeted.

For a change of pace he wasn't greeted with a scowl but instead with an evil grin. "There you are, I was starting to think you'd been abducted by aliens or something."

"Nah, that only happens in the summer when visibility's better."

She tossed him her backpack and set to work on the padlock. "Come with me, there's something I want to show you."

Murdock slipped the pack onto his own shoulders and helped her haul the metal cover up, then descended the ladder first so that she could secure the lock behind them, but when they both reached the bottom and he started to slip it back off she held up a hand and then hoisted herself into the crawlspace, motioning for him to follow.

When they reached the end of their crawl and dropped into the room below she felt blindly until there was a click and the room was bathed in a sickly yellow light from a small desk lamp that was clipped to the door of the electrical box. There was barely enough room for the both of them in the bolt-hole and he finally handed over the heavy pack, watching her dump it unceremoniously between the the coffee maker and the wall of file boxes. "So, what's the special occasion?" he asked, trying not to step all over her pile of blankets.

She ignored the question and instead nudged one of the boxes at the bottom of the stack with her toe. "There's some interesting stuff in these, you know."

"What's in 'em? Looks like old paperwork."

"Lots of old paperwork. Old medical records. Charts. Reports. Transcriptions of therapy sessions for patients that haven't even been here in a decade. The really fun stuff's up front near the door, though. Things get a lot more recent as you work your way forward."

Murdock looked nervous. "You been readin' up on me?"

She smirked. "A little. But the best thing I found was this." She pulled a file folder out from underneath the coffee maker and handed it to him.

He took it, looking apprehensive, then flipped it open and scanned the contents, a brilliant smile lighting his face. "This is The Mammoth's employment application."

"Yup."

He smirked back at her. "Including his home address."

"Yup."

"Ness, sweetheart, why do I get the feelin' that you've been a naughty girl?"

She grinned in the dim light. "Well, I have to get my kicks somehow."

"You're the one who trashed his place, aren't ya?"

"Heard about that, did you? I did more than trash his place, I messed with his tiny little mind."

Murdock slid himself down and settled into the pile of comforters. "Oh, I can't wait to hear all about it."

"Well, I started small. Didn't want him to get him too riled up since it didn't sound like he's the kind of guy who would win any prizes on a good day. I'd been trying to think of something that would really put a crimp in his day but that wouldn't immediately make him think you'd had something to do with it."

He tipped her a nod. "Appreciate it."

"My first thought was to mess with that roller skate of a car he hauls himself around in. Unfortunately, pulling anything while it was here in the parking lot would have been too obvious, and it's not like I've got a car of my own that I can hop into and trail him home with."

She nodded once at the file folder in his hand. "Then I found that. I had actually dug into the more recent boxes to see if I could find anything on him we could use, and suddenly his home address practically falls into my lap. I couldn't resist the temptation. The first evening I hung out in an alleyway down the street from his place until he got home, waited for a bit to make sure he wasn't coming back, popped the lock on the car door and swiped a cassette case with bunch of tapes he had in there."

Murdock shook his head. "Amateur."

"Oh, I'm not done yet. I spent the whole next day hunting through thrift shops and buying up the worst cassettes I could find. Self-help tapes, Gregorian chants, easy listening. Anything that screamed, "He would HATE this!" ended up going home with me. Then I took a screwdriver, popped open the tapes I'd swiped from him, yanked out what was inside, replaced it with the innards I pulled out of my thrift-store binge, and superglued the cases back together."

"Oh no. You didn't."

She crossed her arms over her chest and looked proud of herself.

"The next night I showed up in front of his house around four in the morning, when I knew he'd be out cold but it was still dark, and popped the lock on the door again. I buried the case, full of doctored tapes, under some of the garbage that was spilled all over the back seat."

She chuckled evilly. "I truly wish I could have hung around to see his face when he found them, figured he'd just misplaced them the day before, and gone to pop one into his tape deck. He'd be expecting heavy metal or something and would suddenly find himself listening to some guy telling him how to lose weight through hypnosis."

Murdock's grin was huge. "Damn, I'd have paid good money to see that."

"Yeah, me too. Still, I have to say I'm proudest of the next thing I did." She mimed polishing her fingernails on her shirt. "It had to be my crowning achievement."

"When you broke into his house?"

She snorted. "Not much of a house, more like a rat-hole. I may live in some weird places, but at least I try keep them tidy. He was living in a one-bedroom apartment, tiny little thing. The kitchen looked like something had exploded in it, smelled so bad I almost tucked tail and ran. Living room was hideous. He had a huge entertainment center taking up an entire wall, and a couch that looks like someone's grandmother had given it to him pushed right up in front of it. The rest of the room was buried, literally buried, in empty beer cans and bottles, had to be two feet deep, the only place you could find the floor was along a little path he'd cleared that started at the front door, passed in front of the couch, and branched off at the end so you could get into the kitchen and the bedroom."

Murdock wrinkled his nose. "I don't think I even want to know what the bedroom looked like."

"Neither did I. I only opened the door once, to make sure no one else was home, and I did my best not to identify anything in there."

"Smart girl."

She nodded. "Of course, having seen the state of his car, I came prepared, so I unloaded by backpack and went to work."

"First things first, the kitchen." She gestured grandly. "Picture me there, surrounded by filth and decay, pulling up a pair of bright yellow rubber gloves as far as they'll stretch."

"What'd you do, vengefully wash his dishes?"

"I scrubbed that entire place top to bottom. Plates, glasses, cookware with what must have been the remains of his last half-dozen meals seared into them. Scoured the countertops, sterilized the fridge, filled four giant garbage sacks with trash."

Murdock was staring at her with his eyebrows up. "Why?"

"C'mon, you know this guy. If I had gone in and trashed the place, he'd probably never have noticed. If I'd swiped all his stuff he'd have called the cops and someone might have remembered me coming or going. What's he going to do if he comes home and finds everything spotless, call the police and report an _un_vandalization?"

Murdock nodded, realization dawning. "And I'll bet it put him on edge more than anything else ever could have."

"That's just the beginning."

"You had time to attack a bomb-site of a kitchen and still do more? How long were you over there?"

"Seven hours." She shrugged. "The guy works from ten in the morning until ten at night. It's not like he was going to walk in on me and given the state of his home I doubted he had a live-in girlfriend."

Murdock leaned forward. "What next?"

"Grabbed an empty garbage bag and started hauling cans and bottles into the kitchen. I was half-tempted to just take them all with me and cash in the deposits, but I figured that I'd look a little conspicuous walking out the door trailing a half-dozen garbage sacks full of returnables. Instead I rinsed them out, filled them again about halfway with water, and started stacking them into two of the corners of the living room, one giant pyramid for bottles and one for cans. The bottle pyramid only made it halfway up the wall, but the cans got all the way to the ceiling and stretched about four feet into the room. It was great, I felt like I was on vacation in Egypt by the time I was done."

"And he had the gall to always harass DeRane for change."

"Well, I think we established long ago that he was an asshole. So, at this point, I'm starting to get bored, so I give the living room a once over and am almost out the door again when I decided that the best things in life come in threes. I had to do one more thing."

"And what, oh evil schemer, was that?" he asked with an appreciative twinkle in his eyes.

"I reached back behind the entertainment center, unscrewed the cable, bent that little prong in the middle so it wouldn't line up any more, and screwed it back on as far as it would go. Our boy wasn't going to get anything except the local news and Jesus TV on his rabbit ears when I finished, and I don't think he was smart enough to be able to figure out why."

Murdock was laughing with his hands clasped over his mouth, trying to keep quiet so the sound wouldn't echo through the vents, and he made a hilarious amalgam of heaving chest, muffled chuckles, and a loud wheezing as he pushed and pulled air through his nose in uneven bursts.

She grinned evilly. "So, still think I'm an amateur?"

He finally pulled his hands away to reveal a huge grin. "I can't believe you did all that for me."

She looked down and shrugged. "It was easier than trying to find you a birthday present."

He pretended to look at her sternly. "You _have_ been reading up on me."

"Information is power. Why, do I make you nervous?"

"Makes me wonder what else you know about."

She looked innocent. "Just a few odds and ends."

He shook his head and chuckled again. "Sweetheart, I'm just glad you're on our side."

* * *

Author's Notes:

I was asked to include a cameo by the other members of the team, so there you go! I'm not as good at writing the rest of them as I am Murdock, but hopefully it came out alright.

I _was_ going to have Ness cut his brake lines or something (c'mon, the bastard would have deserved it), but I realized that the last thing either of them needed was cops snooping around. Besides, this was a LOT more fun to write!

Once again, I know next-to-nothing about flight and airplanes, but an internet search turned up a good-sized following for the Mustang P-51's (a fast, well-made, highly durable long-range single seat fighter that began production in the early 1940's and has since been used extensively in civilian circles for air racing) and I thought that it would be something that would make Murdock smile. The titles came up while I was looking for books on air tactics that would have been published by 1984 and they caught my eye.

I don't believe they ever disclosed anyone's birth dates on the series, so I cheated and used Dwight Schultz's, which is November 24th.

Coming up next: Some more indecipherable dialogue for you Behl fans out there.

* * *


	22. Shopping Spree

Chapter 22: Shopping Spree

* * *

November 24th

11:43 a.m.

* * *

"Ah heard yew dowmthairs ihm the wee hourth." The old man grinned toothlessly and nodded once at the floor.

Murdock pulled himself from the doorway and perched on the edge of Behl's bed, bouncing slightly on the mattress and tipping his neighbor a wink. "Our lovely lady of the air ducts finally invited me in for tea."

"Thoumded like yew were havim' ah good time. What wath tho fummy?"

Chuckling and tucking his legs underneath him the younger man answered with, "She engaged in some rather inventive psychological warfare. That's why our favorite orderly headed for the hills while I was out of town."

"Ah wath womderimg who to thamk for that." There was a pause as Behl studied him intently. "Tho, schnowt, whath goimg om with yer girlie?"

Murdock could practically hear the *_winkwinknudgenudge_* in his friend's voice.

"Lay off it, Behl, I didn't even stay long. Figured I should leave before she started lookin' at me sideways again."

"Yew didm't evem get offered ah birthday prethemt?" His bushy eyebrows wiggled suggestively.

"My present was a decided lack of Mammoth when I got home, though I did have to make a couple of phone calls to some friends last night regarding a change of plans." His eyes widened as a thought occurred."That reminds me, I have to slip out later this afternoon, I promised our fiendish friend that I'd bring her some tobacco and with everything that's been going on I completely forgot." He unfolded his long legs. "You need anything while I'm out in the real world?"

"Brimg yer old buddy thome girlie magazimes, ah havem't laid eyes on a nith thet of tiths im too lomg."

Murdock peeled himself from the bed, laughing. "I'll hit that smoke shop out by the old fire station, from the looks of the place I'll bet they're classy enough to offer me one-stop shopping."

* * *

November 24th

3:04 p.m.

* * *

Murdock strolled down the corridor, whistling happily to himself. Another successful session with Richter, an hour spent celebrating the departure of The Mammoth, parrying attempts to pry into his psyche, sidestepping questions as to his recent whereabouts, and ignoring comments skillfully slipped in regarding his connection with the A-Team.

He swung into his room and flung himself onto his bed, dislodging the few remaining comics that were awaiting his perusal, and looked out his window at the afternoon sun. This late in the year darkness would be descending within a couple of hours. The perfect time to slip out for a little shopping spree.

Pulling a comic out from underneath the back of his head, he folded back the cover and prepared to kill some time.

* * *

November 24th

5:43 p.m.

* * *

The streetlamp above him made an annoying humming sound as he made his way into yet another stretch of darkness, a plain brown paper sack tucked securely into the crook of one arm, the other hand shoved deep into the pocket of his jacket to ward off the night chill.

The V.A. loomed in the darkness and he scanned the roofline, hoping for, but not expecting, a glimpse of anyone he knew.

As he wove his way through the building, avoiding contact with any of the staff who might question his purchases, he breathed a sigh of relief as he finally slid himself into Behl's room undetected.

"Special delivery for a dirty old man." he called out.

"Ahm im the latrime. Give me a mimute."

"Behl, you could be in there for ages. How about I just shove 'em under your mattress where they belong."

A wizened cackle from the bathroom answered him and he slid the magazines between the mattress and the wire frame before slipping back into the hallway. He still had one more delivery to make.

* * *

November 24th

5:58 p.m.

* * *

He pulled the flashlight and the brown paper sack from between his teeth as his feet hit the concrete floor at the bottom of the ladder and then shined the light around the small space quickly before setting it on top of one of the electrical boxes in the empty room.

Hoisting himself up onto the pipes he stuck his head into the crawlspace and peered into the darkness. "Hello? Anybody home?" he asked in a hushed tone, listening to the silence. Debating the distastefulness of both the long crawl back and forth to see if anyone was in residence and invading someone's home unexpectedly, but not wanting to simply shout down the echoing ducts in case anyone topside was listening, he settled on a compromise.

Sticking his thumb and forefinger into his mouth he let loose a loud shrill whistle and listened for a response.

He was about to give up and head back up the ladder when he heard a soft scuffling noise and moments later he backed away as a figure emerged and slid down to the ground. "We have got to find a better way to communicate. I am _not_ an Irish Setter."

He looked properly abashed. "Sorry, I didn't know if you were back already and wasn't sure of the etiquette." He pulled the pouch of rolling tobacco out of the bag and held it out to her. "I'm willing to make up for it with a peace offering."

She blinked in surprise. "I figured you'd forgotten." she said quietly as she took it. "It wasn't exactly the best of days for either of us."

Murdock held up his hand, three fingers up with the thumb and little finger tucked inward in true Boy Scout style. "I always keep my promises." He put down the hand and shrugged apologetically. "Sometimes I'm just a little tardy." he finished, looking sheepish.

"Thank you." She looked uncomfortable as she slipped the bag into her backpack. "I'm not used to people keeping their word with me."

He studied her face. "When have I ever let you down?"

"You haven't. It almost makes me nervous. It's like you escaped out of some 50's TV show where the weather's always nice and people call the fire brigade to rescue their cats from tall trees."

He flashed her a charming grin. "I've been told I'm just a big Boy Scout."

"Somehow I don't think I could talk a Boy Scout into feeding my nicotine addiction." She shot him a wink.

He chuckled and jerked a thumb upwards toward the roof. "I can't stay, I have to get movin' if I want any chance of grabbin' some grub that hasn't congealed into one giant indigestible lump."

"Okay." She paused as he grabbed his flashlight and moved over to the ladder. "You coming back tonight?" she asked tentatively.

The grin he turned on her was infectious. "That's the first time you've ever asked me to come back, nothin' could keep me away."

She made shoo-ing motions at him while attempting to hide her own grin with a stern look. "Sounds good, now go feed yourself before you waste away."

Murdock was still smiling to himself a few minutes later as he pulled the lock picks from his pocket and slid them into the door at the top of the stairwell. Still smiling as the lock succumbed with a quiet click. Still smiling as he pulled the door open to step inside.

When a hand shot out of the doorway to take his upper arm in an iron grip, and a stern voice started barking questions he didn't want to supply the answers to, he stopped smiling.

* * *

November 24th

6:39 p.m.

* * *

"You know you're gonna make me miss dinner, right?" Murdock tried appealing to the man by flashing him huge puppy-dog eyes.

"Tell me what you were doing up there. That is not a patient area."

Murdock felt another tug on his arm as he was led down yet another corridor. They were quickly approaching the station in the Psych ward and he let himself be led along in the hopes that Mackie could say something to sooth the man he'd met so abruptly in the stairwell.

The object of his hopes looked up from his paperwork as the two rounded the final corner. "Uh oh, flyboy, what kind of trouble did you get yourself into this time?"

Returning the friendly smile, Murdock gestured at his new friend with his free hand. "I was just mindin' my own business when this guy shows up out of the blue and starts haulin' me around. Do we know him?" He raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Murdock, meet Higgler, he's our day shift replacement."

The iron grip tightened and was accompanied by a glare that was just as unfriendly. "I just started today, spent the whole afternoon in orientation." He turned his gaze back to Mackie. "I finally get a few minutes to myself and look what I find breaking and entering."

Mackie looked confused. "Breaking and entering? You do realize that he's _supposed_ to be in here, right?"

"There was only one patient missing when they took me around to meet everyone, but I figured there couldn't be more than one guy in khakis, high tops, and a bomber jacket wandering around the building." Higgler's heavy brows came together and he reached into his pocket, tossing something shiny at the other orderly. Mackie caught the lock picks mid-air and examined them. "He was on the roof, I was going up for a smoke and caught him letting himself back into the building with those. I'm guessing they're not regular issue for patients on this ward."

Mackie shot Murdock a look, to which Murdock replied with a hang-dog expression.

"No," the man admitted, "can't say that they are." His eyes met Murdock's. "You know we'll have to confiscate these, right?"

Murdock pretended to look forlorn, knowing full well that he could get another set with one phone call to the right person. "Do you have to? It gets so stuffy in here."

Higgler reached over and plucked the picks from Mackie's grip. "I'll write up the report and lock them up."

"Sounds good to me, I hate paperwork. I'll show Murdock back to his room."

Mackie's offer was met with another glare. "Standard procedure for a patient caught trying to break out of the hospital is solitary confinement."

The seasoned orderly responded with a laugh. "Nah, we're not sticklers for stuff like that. He'll be fine if we lock him in his room, won't you flyboy?"

Murdock nodded enthusiastically.

More heavy brow-furrowing. "We have to follow procedure."

"You do realize that technically I wasn't breaking out of the V.A., I was breaking into it." Murdock offered helpfully.

"Regardless, it's solitary for you. Mackie, grab me a jacket."

Both began protesting at once.

Mackie's shout of "Hey, I'll run with throwing him in S.C. until Richter gets in tomorrow morning and sets you straight, but there's no need to truss him up!" was nearly drowned out with Murdock's plaintive whine of "Aw, c'mon, it's my birthday, cut a guy some slack!"

Higgler was a statue, simply staring at his colleague until Murdock finally rolled his eyes at Mackie and shrugged his shoulders. Mackie didn't look pleased as he slipped from behind the station to the supply closet, returning a few moments later with a strait-jacket flung over one arm.

Looking pointedly from Higgler's face to the hand still gripping his arm, Murdock breathed easier as the grip finally loosened and he rolled his shoulder several times before slipping off his own jacket to trade it for the one on Mackie's arm. "Put this in my room for me, would ya?" he asked as he took the heavy bundle of canvas and buckles that was being offered to him and began to slip it on.

"No problem." Mackie said as the laid it across the desk for the time being and moved forward to buckle the straps.

"I've got them." Higgler weathered Murdock's glare and began tugging and cinching until only the under-strap remained. As he reached for it, Murdock smirked evilly.

"Whoa there buddy, I don't know you that well yet."

Higgler steadfastly ignored him and finished his task, and the two of them began steering the bundled man toward a series of rooms set farthest from the patient's sleeping accommodations.

The doors here were heavy, and the contrast between the stark metal on the outside and the padding on the inside always made Murdock think of a coffin. Thankfully they were large enough to keep all but the most claustrophobic of patients from feeling too walled in, provided that any patient that made it into one of these rooms was still paying enough attention to reality to know where they were.

"Shoes." The master-of-the-rule-book's look brooked no arguments as he pulled a keyring from his pocket and selected one purposefully.

Murdock toed them off and kicked them in his direction and then strode without hesitation through the door that was being held open for him.

"I'll put these with your jacket." Mackie offered as he scooped them up and Murdock tipped him a nod of thanks as the door shut between them. He looked through the small pane of reinforced glass at his two captors and watched as Higgler ignored Mackie's glare and strode back down the corridor, presumably to begin his paperwork on the incident, leaving Murdock with a parting remark of "Have a good night, High Tops."

Mackie sighed and shared a glance with the man behind the glass, his voice muffled by the thick door between them. "I'm sorry. Being assigned to the Psych ward does that to some people, makes them all defensive and they want to cover their asses. He'll mellow out once he realizes that not all of the residents want to rip his lips off and pin them on their walls." He paused for a chuckle and a shrug. "If he even lasts the week."

Murdock leaned his forehead against the soft wall. "It's okay, the Doc'll tell him what flies around here and what doesn't in the mornin'. I can humor him until then unless my nose starts itchin'."

Mackie slipped into an easy laugh. "Give me a shout if that happens, we're just around the corner. I'll make sure it's me and not Mister Stickler back there that comes to the rescue."

"It would seem that we've scored ourselves the Anti-Mammoth this time around." Murdock observed dryly. "Well, it's still a definite step up from the last incarnation, at least this guy didn't have me 'accidentally' singing soprano for quipping at him when he was finishing up my buckles."

Mackie tipped his head toward the hallway they'd come down. "He seems like a good guy, just needs to learn the difference between the rule book and how things really work around here."

"I hope he learns 'em fast, my fingers get numb when I try to sleep in these things."

The orderly nodded. "I'll take him under my wing. You gonna be okay in there?"

Murdock broke out his devil-may-care grin. "Oh, I'll be fine. See, I even got me a new birthday suit!"

He heard Mackie laughing so long that he must have been nose-deep in his paperwork again before he finished.

* * *

November 24th

9:15 p.m.

* * *

Murdock was curled up on his right side after trying, and failing, yet again to find a comfortable position in the strait-jacket. When he heard footsteps in the hall and the clink of a key in the lock he sighed.

"I don't suppose you could hit the lights, huh? It's awfully hard to take a nap with the overheads glaring down on me."

"Actually I'm here to administer a full body-cavity search. Hope you're not feeling shy tonight."

He levered himself upright quickly and stared at the doorway. "What are you doing here?" he whispered.

Ness glanced down the hallway, slid herself into the room, and locked the door behind her. "I wanted to make sure we didn't have a Mammoth Mark II in the works, that guy sounded pretty pissed off."

She grasped his elbow to steady him as he struggled to his feet. "Nah, just a new guy who didn't expect to find a wayward patient on his smoke break and is still at that 'I want to impress my new bosses' stage." He grinned. "Nice uniform, by the way, I don't think I've ever seen you in anything other than jeans and a half-dozen sweatshirts at a time before."

She reached up and smoothed the material. "Don't expect to see it again, these duds are only a size 18. All my pudge is around my middle so I had to jury-rig myself a girdle out of masking tape and an old t-shirt in order to squeeze into them." She put a hand on her stomach and tried to take a deep breath. "My intestines feel like mummified sardines in this get-up."

Murdock eyed her up and down. "Whoever designed those 'duds' weren't expecting them to be on a woman of your height, either, I see."

She pulled self-consciously at the hem of her skirt. "Shush you. I already had your rooftop stoner friend eying my gams. Must be a very lonely boy to be checking out the likes of me. I'm just glad he didn't ask me to get anything off of any high shelves, I can't raise my arms in this thing without violating public indecency laws." A glance at her white tennis shoes brought a wry smile. "I'm just glad they don't expect women to wear high-heels to work at this place, though if I ever find the bastard that invented pantyhose I'm going to throttle him with a pair." She heaved a melodramatic sigh. "How can normal women stand these things?"

He chuckled. "Been there, done that, feel the same way."

Shaking her head and grinning, she countered with, "Oh yeah, I'd forgotten about your cross-dressing adventures. Sometimes I wonder-"

There were footsteps in the hall and both of them eyed the small window in the door warily. "Hourly's." Murdock whispered.

Her whispered reply sounded nervous. "I'm supposedly mopping up a mess at the end of the hall. I parked the mop bucket by the bathroom so hopefully they'll think I'm powdering my nose, but if they see me..."

He jerked his chin at the corner. "Get over there, I'll keep them from getting too good of a look in here."

When Mackie and Higgler approached his doorway, Murdock pressed his nose to the glass and shot them a maniacal grin.

"How you holding up in there?" Mackie asked.

Murdock breathed heavily on the small window until it fogged up, then ran his nose across the glass, etching an inverted curve topped with three dots into the mist.

Mackie shook his head at the frown drawn in the window. "That good, huh?"

Higgler stepped forward reluctantly. "Hello Mister Murdock."

More heavy panting before the reply was written on the glass.

**.TPAC**

Higgler tried again. "Okay, hello Captain Murdock."

His reward was a grin, then another stint of fogging with a much shorter reply.

**.IH**

Mackie looked at the new orderly. "See, we can all be friends."

Higgler shrugged and stepped away from the window where their patient was now giving them his best 'evil psychotic' look through the glass. "He always like this?"

"I think you pissed him off earlier. Don't worry, he'll grow on you."

As Mackie led Higgler away, Murdock sent one last parting shot at their backs in an overly-loud sing-song voice.

_Higgler's not a giggler, he's a stick in the mud._

_Maybe if he relaxed he could be my best bud._

The target of his impromptu performance shot a worried glance over his shoulder near the end of the hallway, and Murdock watched Mackie slap him on the back reassuringly, then they turned a corner and were lost from sight.

The pilot pulled away from the smudged glass and grinned at his visitor. "They're gone."

Reaching into her pocket for the key, Ness breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. If I hurry I can dump the bucket and have it and the keyring back at the desk and be out of here before they're done with their rounds." She hefted the jingling ring in her hand. "I wish I had more time with these, I've got a friend who'll run me a copy of anything I can get my hands on. Having spares for half the V.A. wouldn't be bad."

"Maybe next time?" Murdock offered helpfully.

She glared at him as she unlocked the door. "Don't go getting yourself thrown in here just for my sake."

He smirked. "But the attire is so flattering. It does great things for my figure, don't you think?" He spun in a circle for her assessment.

Smiling, she slipped into the hallway and pulled the door closed behind her with a quiet "Goodnight Murdock."

A moment later he faintly heard the squeaky wheels of the mop bucket recede into the distance. "Goodnight Ness." he whispered. He looked around. "Goodnight ugly walls. Goodnight annoying buzzing lights." He sank back down to the floor and tried once again to find a comfortable position.

"Goodnight me."

* * *

Author's Notes:

Wow, our favorite pilot had a really eventful day!

Special thanks to Cap'n Awesome for sticking around through the hiatus. No worries, I'm not planning on leaving this unfinished, I'm having WAY too much fun with it! Besides, I just racked up my 1,500th hit and it now looks like I've gathered about three dozen readers who regularly check for updates!

*does a happy dance*

I lightened up Behl's speech impediment slightly and when I go back and rework the earlier chapters I'll give them a bit of cleaning up as well, so hopefully he'll be a bit easier to understand.

Coming soon: Murdock finally gets a peek at what Ness does when she's not hiding in the basement or chasing off obnoxious orderlies.


	23. Storage Unit Christmas

Chapter 23: Storage Unit Christmas

* * *

December 22nd

5:17 p.m.

* * *

"Deck the hallth with Thantath ballth, Fa La La La-La, La La, La La."

Several pairs of eyes turned in their direction and Murdock shook his head at Behl.

"Nail the girlth agaimtht the wallth, Fa La La La-La, La La, La La."

Setting down a spoonful of mashed potatoes, the pilot propped his elbow on the tabletop and set his chin in his palm, watching his friend from across the table as the old man cheerfully belted out the off-key, and decidedly improvised, lyrics at the top of his lungs.

"Thweet ladieth im tight apparel, Fa La-La, Fa La-La, La La La."

Around the cafeteria a few people started joining in on the Fa La La's as Murdock lowered his arm and hung his head, chortling.

"For Chrithmath I'll take Ruth amd Carol, Fa La La La-La, La La, La La."

By the time he was done and the scattered applause from around the room died down, Murdock's head hung so low he was practically snorting in his gravy. "Buddy, you're gonna get us sent to bed without dessert."

"If it geth uth away from the P.A. thythtem, ith a worth-while thacrifith. They've beem playim the thame tem thomgs for the latht three weekth!"

Murdock straightened up and raised his arms and eyes to the ceiling imploringly. "Chocolate cake, Behl, chocolate cake! I demand less blood in my sugar stream, kemosabe! Consider the needs of others!"

"Okay, okay, I'll thkip my remditiom of "Damglimg Ballth" the mext time "Thilver Bellth" cometh om." He pretended to check his watch. "Which thould be im about thevem mimuth."

"That'll do," Murdock pushed around a brown lump that was swimming in his gravy, "I'll have enough of this stuff forced over my tongue by then for my plate to pass inspection by the Nutrition Nazis and earn my just rewards."

"I cam't believe they're doim plate-checkth. I keep havim' to fimd imvemtive platheth to hide my greem beams."

Murdock raised an eyebrow. "I really don't want you to elaborate on that."

Behl shot him a decidedly evil look. "Thpeakim' of which, I've beem thimkim' of callim my hemorrhoidth Higgler, theeim' ath how he'th tho fomd of lightim' fireth umder everyome'th ath."

The younger man guffawed around a mouthful of potatoes and Behl rapped him solidly on the back before he started turning blue. "Dom't ya go dyim' om me, schnowt." he warned.

Gasping, Murdock wiped away tears with the back of his hand. "Finally gonna admit you'll miss my company?"

"Yer dreamim', you've jutht got more pocketh tham me amd I've got a lot of leftoverth."

Giving up on the cafeteria's offering for the day and spreading the remains of his dinner into a thin layer on his plate, Murdock stood and jerked his chin toward the front of the cafeteria. "I'm gonna go rustle me up some frosted sin. Try not to get thrown in a padded cell while I'm gone, would ya?"

Behl smirked and turned his attention to the offending green beans, poking at one idly while humming along to an obnoxiously cheerful tune that drifted down from the overhead speakers.

* * *

December 23rd

5:48 a.m.

* * *

Murdock waited at the bottom of the access shaft in the aftermath of another shrill whistle and nervously fiddled with the edge of the wrapping paper that colorfully covered the box he held in his hands.

A few minutes later he heard the tell-tale sound of scuffling and tucked the package behind his back as a head poked out of the crawlspace. Ness leaned on her elbows to peer down at him.

"Woof." she said dryly and smirked. "Did they finally let you out for good behavior?"

He laughed. "I'm sorry I haven't been by, this new guy's the definition of anal-retentive and he's talked the bosses into lettin' him whip the entire ward into shape. There's all kinds of new rules and everyone's on edge, it's been a nightmare." He shook his head. "I'm amazed he hasn't started asking us to submit written requests to use the restroom."

She snorted. "Want me to track down your old friend?"

"I'd rather fill out permission slips." He watched her swing down from her perch and as she approached and eyed him inquisitively he turned himself so she couldn't get a look at what he held behind him. "Thankfully it's just DeRane and Thompson on shift tonight, and neither of them can stand the guy, so I don't have to worry about being spanked if they notice I've gone out for an early walk."

"You're gonna get spanked if you don't tell me what you're hiding back there."

He burst out laughing. "You're certainly in an ornery mood this morning."

She stopped circling him like a shark and grinned. "I am having a great brain day, haven't heard a peep from any of the lil' fuckers since I woke up yesterday, and I'm enjoying it while I can."

"That's great, it's like a Christmas present from your gray matter."

She giggled. "Hopefully they've all won a trip to Hawaii and will take their time coming home."

"Well," he drew out the word, "speaking of getting away for the holidays, my friends are coming to scoop me up later for a few days of R and R, good company, and way too much food at the home of a very nice doctor who's a..." he cleared his throat suggestively, "lady friend of one of my compadres. I won't be back until sometime on Thursday if all goes well."

"Sounds like there's tinsel and eggnog in your future."

"Yup, but first I wanted to drop by and wish you happy holidays." He finally slid the box from behind his back and handed it over to her.

She eyed it critically for a moment and then stretched out her hand. "Kid, you're going to spoil me."

"Well, it's kinda for both of us." he confessed, watching as she carefully began unwrapping the parcel, taking care not to tear the paper any more than necessary. He started to fidget impatiently. "Hey, it's a present. You're supposed to rip that stuff off."

She rolled her eyes. "You're so wasteful." she chided, but humored him by grasping an open edge and tearing the paper away with a dramatic flourish. When she saw what was printed on the box she began to laugh. "Does this mean I don't have to bark any more?"

"Not as of this minute. I already put the batteries in so we can test them out." he hinted.

Popping open the top of the box she reached in and extracted one of the walkie-talkies, handing it over to him with a grin, and then pulled out its twin and twisted the red knob at the top. It sprang to life with an obnoxious crackle which was immediately replaced with a soft static hiss.

Murdock was already adjusting his volume and he toggled the talk button on the side. "Knight Of The Sky to Mammoth Slayer, come in Mammoth Slayer."

His voice trickled through the speaker in her hand and she raised the volume slightly before replying. "This is Mammoth Slayer. How are things sounding on your end, Knight Of The Sky?"

"Just peachy-keen. Over."

He clicked it off and slid it into a jacket pocket. "I figured this would be far more dignified than whistlin' through the air ducts."

She looked hers over. "How's the battery life on these things? They won't do us much good if one of them's off when the other's trying to use theirs."

"I had one of my friends pop open the casings and replace some of the components." He pointed to a small hole freshly drilled into the side of her device. "There's an adapter in the bottom of the box, you can plug it into that outlet you rigged up and leave it on all the time if you want."

"I think the serene sound of space hiss would have me climbing the walls."

He pondered. "Lights-out is at ten o'clock. I usually know if I can sneak out by then, let's say I'll give a holler between ten and eleven if I'm planning on heading this direction after-hours?"

She clicked off the power. "I can live with that. What about the range? There's concrete between your pad and mine."

"Already tried and tested. Behl and I were playing with them yesterday all over the V.A. and these things'll punch through anything on the grounds." He chuckled. "I got a great look from one of the nurses over at the other end of the building. She heard Behl talkin' to me and told me I should get a refund because it sounded so horribly garbled. I had to explain to her that they were workin' fine, it was the guy on the other end that was garbled."

She snickered and unzipped a pocket in her backpack to stow her new acquisition, then scooped up the box, stuffed the wrapping paper inside, and shoved it as far back into the crawlspace as she could before turning to face him.

She was quiet for several moments and Murdock watched her expression. He slipped easily into his British accent. "Dear lady, I do believe that you're pondering something."

"Yes, I do believe I am. How would you feel about violating curfew for a while longer?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Pretending to be scandalized by her suggestion, his cultivated reply made her smile. "And delay my much-anticipated return to the rigors of Higgler Manor? How dare you suggest such a thing." He grinned and swung back into his normal voice. "I'd love to. I'll have to be back before shift-change at ten, but that gives us _hours_."

She slipped on the backpack and approached the ladder, hoisting herself up. "I feel like taking a walk. How are you at shimmying down drainpipes?"

* * *

December 23rd

6:56 a.m.

* * *

The sun was just beginning to peek over the hills by the time their morning walk led them up to a chain-link fence bordered with white gravel. Ness cast a glance left and right down the deserted street and then strode up to a segment half-hidden behind a rather robust lemonade sumac. A solid yank peeled up a corner and she motioned him inside the fence.

A half-dozen structures stretched off into the distance, corrugated siding once painted blue but now peeling after prolonged exposure to the elements filled in whatever space was not taken up by a long line of identical roll-up metal doors, each sporting its own padlock. Three doors in on the building closest to the hole in the fence she stopped and pulled her overloaded keyring from a side-pocket of the backpack. Moments later the door slid up with a loud metallic shudder.

The rear half of the unit was stacked from ceiling to floor with storage barrels in various shades of beige and tan, metal rings around the circumference of the lids securing the contents. The foreground looked like the living room of a starving college student with a discolored though still serviceable rug covering the concrete floor, an old avocado green armchair vying for space with several mismatched display cases, and a decidedly misused card table against the wall, listing slightly under the weight of several boxes.

Murdock took it all in with an inquisitive gaze. "So, whose place is this?"

She smiled at the question, dumped her bag on the ground, and sank into the chair. "Mine, believe it or not. I don't live my whole life underground."

He eyed the storage unit with admiration. "Pretty nice digs. Not that I mind your company, but how come ya crash in that little mouse hole at the V.A. when you've got this stashed up your sleeve?"

She gestured around the room. "You see any power outlets in here?"

He glanced around. "Guess people don't worry much about keeping a night light goin' for the stuff they put in storage, huh?" His voice took on a sympathetic tone. "It's too bad, I bet it gets dark in here and all those ol' teddy bears they just can't throw away though their kids are now in college get scared."

She nodded. "No electricity. I'm happy to make due with a flashlight but the real problem is that there's no way to control the temperature. This is the kind of place I like during the spring and autumn nights, nice and roomy, but if I tried it during the winter or the summer they'd find what's left of me when someone finally complained about the smell. Transient-sicle or oven-roasted-homeless-person, depending on the circumstances. This place gets pretty toasty when the sun's been beating down on it all day. All it gets used for right now is a place to stash the stuff I find until I can restore it and locate a buyer."

"And that's how you pay the space rent on this place?"

Another nod as she propped her feet up on a display case. "I have two hobbies. Scrounging and reading. If the weather's bad I'll hole up in the back corner of a library all day. If it's good I'll stake out some empty old place and start exploring the nooks and crannies. You'd be amazed at what I've pulled out of basements, from under floorboards, once in a while I even find an old lock-box, trunk, or a storage room that hasn't seen a key in decades." She gestured over her shoulder at the barrels. "People just forget about things when they're done using them and then, years later, get nostalgic. You can make an okay living selling people back what they've thrown away over the years. I usually pull in enough to have a couple places like this, keep myself fed, and have a little tucked away so that I can get myself out of trouble if something goes wrong."

He cast a glance through the gaping doorway behind them. "Isn't anyone going to notice we snuck in?"

"Nah, there's an old lady who lives on-site in a trailer by the main gate, but that's on the far end of the lot and she doesn't get out much. This place doesn't officially open until nine, so we've got some time before anyone might come by and wonder what we're doing here so early."

He began to slide his hands into the pockets of his jacket, remembered that one was currently occupied, and settled instead for crossing his arms over his chest and leaning casually against the door frame. "So, I'm curious. Much as I've enjoyed the morning exercise and the Goodwill-chic ambiance, what _are_ we doing here?"

"Shopping. I'm fresh out of extinct pachyderms to play minds games with, so you're going to have to find your own present this time." She hooked her thumb in the direction of the barrels. "Have at, there's bound to be something in there you'll like."

"Really?" His eyes widened in anticipation and she nodded.

He leapt into action and strode briskly to the rear wall, choosing a stack of barrels at random and heaving the upper of the set forward to slide it to the floor, where he popped the catch on the fastening and lifted the lid.

Bundle after bundle of newsprint were jostled in among multitudes of small boxes and he began rummaging through the collection, unwrapping, rewrapping, opening, closing, and setting aside item after item.

There was no rhyme or reason to the contents, a box of faded photographs from a family's vacation to Disneyland that, judging by the flouncy skirts and high heels of the two women in the top photo, had been taken during the fifties sat next to a hideous hand-painted ceramic cat wrapped in a page from the classifieds. Tin toys aplenty, some freshly re-painted in painstaking detail and some so faded and scuffed that their original colors were lost to the ravages of time, nestled against a marionette with a chilling clown face, an old cookie tin full of S&H green stamps, and a box containing doilies an incredible shade of orange that was usually reserved for directing traffic.

Ness was half-asleep in her chair and he was nearly at the bottom of the third barrel, backside in the air with only the toe of one sneaker still maintaining contact with the ground, when the morning quiet was rent with a somewhat muffled, but still incredibly enthusiastic, whoop.

Wriggling out of the barrel he held up a half-opened ball of newspaper. His cap was missing, apparently having joined the eclectic residents still lurking at the bottom of the canister, and his hair was completely askew, but his eyes were aglow with excitement.

"Do you know what this _is_?" he asked her, the last word half an octave higher than his normal tone.

She pushed herself from the recliner and took the bundle carefully, peeling back a few layers of crinkling paper. "Oh yeah, I found that over the summer out where they were demolishing those old houses for the new strip mall. Some kid must have buried it in the backyard and not been able to find it again and it got dug up when they were getting ready to lay the foundation. Took me forever to wash all the mud off of it but it cleaned up rather nicely."

He extracted it from the paper and his tone was hushed and reverent. "This is a 1:48 scale replica of a Barnes Wallis "Swallow", die-cast in an alloy of zinc and aluminum by the Revell company in 1956. They only released seven planes in that model line, all experimental aircraft designs, and when I was a kid my grams got me the Northrop XP-79B, the one they called "The Flying Ram", and the WS-606A that looked like a flying saucer. I loved my planes but I secretly coveted all of them. I can't believe you just found this lyin' around."

She shrugged. "Not so much 'lying around' as 'at the bottom of a pile of dirt that caught my eye'. I always keep a lookout for anything shiny or brightly colored whenever there's earth being moved around, any kid that can lose one toy in the yard is bound to have lost more."

"This is amazing. It needs new paint and a little love but I know exactly where I'm going to put it when I'm done." His eyes were wide. "I can really have this?"

"It's all yours, one less thing I have to work on."

His mind was already back at the V.A. "I can get the paints and brushes from the arts and crafts room and I'll have to take over the far table, that's the only window that'll get enough light to let me work on the details. Gonna have to hunt down some WD-40 first, though, there's moving parts on this that haven't moved in decades." He paused for a moment to glance around at the carnage lining the floor of the storage space and his smile slipped a notch. "But I should probably clean up first."

"Don't bother, I'll just have to pull them back out in a bit anyway."

He looked confused. "You're not heading back?"

"No, a friend of mine who handles my commissions is supposed to stop by around nine. I'm going to take advantage of the good brain day and sort inventory and there's an old jack-in-the-box around here somewhere that will go for a pretty penny once I get it all cleaned up and repainted. You go ahead. Besides, if your friends are as crazy as you are you'll need a nap before they show up later."

He clutched the airplane to his chest and grinned. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Give me a buzz when you get back Thursday night. I'll keep my new toy turned on for you."

He mimed a walkie-talkie in his free hand and made a passable rendition of static as he pretended to press the button. *chzzt* "Ten-four good buddy." *chzzt*

He turned and loped off toward the fence, stopped half-way there, sprinted back into the unit to dive back into the barrel, and emerged triumphantly with his cap. He ducked back out again with a gleeful "Merry Christmas, Ness!"

She waved. "Have a Merry Merry and a Happy Happy, kid."

* * *

Author's Notes:

This is one of those chapters where I actually did some work (as opposed to just playing around with Murdock *looks guilty*) on one of my own characters to flesh them out a little for the book (would you believe there's actually a point to writing this? Whodathunk!), so I hope no one found it too boring.

Admittedly, I've gotten some great dialogue and several fun scenes to dust off and reuse later, so I guess I've _technically_ been working, it's just been so much fun that it doesn't _feel_ like work.

I cheated and totally made up the line of model planes that Murdock coveted, but the other details should ring pretty true-to-life. Any model enthusiasts out there who can put their two cent's worth in?

* * *

Now it's time to take a moment and send some more love to my reviewers!!!

First off, a warm welcome to dreamwatch, who's been lurking for a while and finally came up to say hello! Here's a little cut-and-paste one-on-one from that review:

_I've been reading this since the beginning, and like everyone else, I get all jumpy when it hasn't been updated for a few days! How greedy we are. :)_

Please, be greedy. It keeps me writing!

_I like the way you write, it's economical which I value greatly. I'm not one for flowery passages of prose where it's not needed._

I can do flowery prose... but I agree that it just doesn't seem to suit this story. Now, if I were writing a fic where Face goes out on a date with a lovely lady it would be all about describing the details of his designer suit, the ambiance of the expensive restaurant, the texture of her gorgeous hair, and so forth.

None of the main characters in this story (Murdock, Ness, Behl, etc.) are really the type of people I can see swooning away over 'the ethereal glint of moonlight through flaxen tresses as the softest whisper of an ocean breeze carried to them the delicate scent of distant lands and long-forgotten memories'.

Well, unless Murdock was in his 'Hunkman' mode. Personally, I've always preferred our pilot in his normal (now there's a relative term!) state.

_...you belittle your abilities at writing the other team members. Though a small appearance, they were true to character._

Thank you! I worked very hard on that segment. It would have been far too easy to just write them as cardboard caricatures of themselves, especially the dialogue (having Face whine constantly, Hannibal quipping about plans coming together, B.A. calling Murdock names or arguing about getting on a plane...), so I gave myself the challenge of referencing several of their catch phrases without actually _using_ any of them. I'm actually impressed that it turned out so well.

_I do feel cheated though - I really thought there was going to be some tasty Murdock bashing but you gave him a reprieve. ;)_

Hrm. *raises eyebrows* Are we referring to him suddenly meeting the grabby new orderly or to that segment a while back with the restraints and olive oil?

*evil laughter*

Oh, that scene had _so_ many deliciously evil possibilities.

Luckily (in either case) for our dear boy, I wasn't planning on making _this_ story particularly dark (or, depending on the reprieve in question, that high a rating!), so he's been relatively safe from harm thus far. That's not to say, however, that a certain authoress with a taste for trussing up imaginary men isn't going to tackle that particular avenue in the future if there's an audience out there for it. *rubs hands together contemplatively*

I already have two other requests for Murdock stories in my writing queue for when this one's done, but if I'm told there's something specific my readers would like to see then I can try to work it into a later chapter (If I can squeeze it in... there's not that many more to go!) or add it to my to-do list!

* * *

On a different note... *takes a moment to wave at seastarr* Good to have you back, we haven't seen you since chapter 15!

* * *

And now here's some comments from one of my most prolific! (Yay!) reviewers, Cap'n Awesome:

_OMG FTW! SHE CLEANED HIS HOUSE?!? Can she do mine? Pretty please with bells on?  
_

Sorry, I've already got her booked... I haven't done the dishes in two days and I really need to vacuum while I can still remember what color the carpet's supposed to be. Damned fanfic. *laughs at self*

_I love the Team popping in. Those guys are adorable. And the presents were spot on!_

Ah, the presents. That birthday segment was in the outline since day one, but the only present that popped into my head without working at it was the comic books from 'The Kids'.

Face's only took a _little_ bit of thinking since I remembered that I'd had Murdock mutter something about making Face get him a fancy lighter _waaaay_ back when and it hadn't materialized yet.

Hannibal's gift... dammit, that took me DAYS to figure out.

You know those times when you're chomping at the bit for the next chapter and there isn't one? Well, loyal readers, you can blame it on my perfectionist tendencies and that little research assistant that lives inside my head who won't let me post anything half-assed.

_Murdock fogging up the window was pure adorable-ness. I can see him doing that so very vividly!_

The window-fogging scene sprang, fully-formed, into existence just like the food fight scene (all hail the Bandle-Whather!) did. Some of the time I'm writing Murdock... and some of the time I feel like I'm just watching Murdock and hoping that I can type fast enough to keep up with whatever the hell he pulls next.

* * *

A special thanks to all of you for giving my 'review' button such a good work-out over the last few days!

* * *

Coming up next: Just when you thought Ness was finally starting to warm up...

Coming soon: Murdock's two worlds get a bit entangled when some bad boys from the criminal underground track down the A-Team's secret weapon and insist he joins them for more than crumpets and tea.


	24. Emptying Out

Chapter 24: Emptying Out

* * *

December 27th

1:07 p.m.

* * *

Murdock tapped twice on the door frame to get Behl's attention. "How's my favorite crotchety ol' geezer today? Ya miss me?"

"I mithed thothe pocketh of yourth. Thome brilliamt prick dethided to therve uth greem beam catherole for dimmer yethterday."

The pilot grimaced at the thought, then supplanted it with a grin. "Well, then, I guess it's a good thing your ol' buddy Murdock was thinkin' of you." He pulled paper plate topped with aluminum foil out from behind his back. "How about some leftovers?"

The old man shot forward and grabbed it greedily, peeling away the cover. "Turkey! Ham! Bithcuith that wom't leave a demt im the wall if yew throw them! Schnowt, yer my favorite."

Watching him shove a slice of ham into his maw and start gumming it merrily, Murdock chuckled. "You should have seen the spread we had, I think we wiped out the local grocery store. Those friends of mine never do anything half-way." He patted his stomach happily. "I'm amazed any of my t-shirts still fit."

"Bullthit, I've theen yew eat, yew could clear out the cafeteria thingle-hamdedly and them athk whath for dethert."

"I've been cursed with a high metabolism." Murdock replied, reaching over to sneak a chunk of turkey from the plate. "I just can't sit still long enough for anything to stick."

There was silence for a moment, broken only by the smacking sound of Behl's attempt at chewing. "Gomma go thee yer girlie tomight?" he asked around the ham.

"I'll at least give her a buzz and let her know I'm back. I don't know who's on the schedule for tonight yet."

"If yew head that way make thure to tie a hamdkerchief over yer fath."

Murdock smirked. "Did I miss a memo? Are we holding up the local stage tonight?"

"Naw, but I thimk yer girl's got herthelf a humdinger of a head cold. The latht couple mights I could hear her blowim' her nothe whem it got quiet after hourth."

"I'll take it under advisement. Maybe I should see if the cafeteria's got any chicken soup."

"What are yew gomma do, carry it aroumd in yer cap all evemimg?"

Murdock pulled off the cap and studied it. "Maybe I should rethink this plan, could get messy." He reached in and plucked a stray hair from the lining and then settled it back on his head. "I'm gonna head down to A&C and work on my new plane for a while." He eyed Behl's determined attempts at mastication. "You enjoy your well-earned repast."

Behl swallowed the ham and reached for another slice. "Will do, schnowt, will do."

* * *

December 27th

10:48 p.m.

* * *

Murdock was getting worried. He tried again. "Knight Of The Sky to Mammoth Slayer, come in Mammoth Slayer." As before, releasing the talk button only resulted in several minutes of static.

"Ness, sweetheart, talk to me." More static awaited him.

He let the possibilities run through his mind. Had she been found out and removed from the premises or was this purely an equipment malfunction? Had he done something wrong or had she simply forgotten to turn on her walkie-talkie at the appointed time? Was she hurt and unable to respond or was her cold so bad that she was sleeping it off?

He sat on the edge of the bed and tapped one foot impatiently. "Calm down," he told himself, "it's late and she probably just fell asleep. Behl already told you she's been blowing her nose all night." He stilled his foot as a realization hit him. "Her voices stopped for a couple of days." The implications sunk in. "When mine give me time off they always come back with a vengeance." He checked the clock and ran up to peer into the hallway. "You're not down with a bug, are you little girl? You've been cryin'."

Knowing that the night shift's hourly rounds were due at any moment he pulled back the sheets on his bed, scampered to his closet, pulled out an overflowing armload of tees and flannel shirts, and set to work re-arranging the pile into the shape of a sleeping form.

Hiding in his bathroom with the door slightly ajar, it wasn't long before he heard footsteps in the hallway and the beam of a flashlight briefly illuminated the darkened room and the form on the bed. Once they receded he counted to one hundred under his breath and then burst out the door, pulling his new lockpicks from his pocket en route, and quietly began working on gaining access to the hallway.

* * *

December 27th

11:17 p.m.

* * *

"Neth?" Murdock whispered ahead of him as crawled quickly on his hands and knees with his flashlight between his teeth. "Neth, ith Murdock. You dowm there?"

He was almost at the bolt-hole and the silence was deafening. He pulled the flashlight from his mouth and worked his jaw. "This thing makes me sound like Behl with a twang." he joked, shining the light into the space but unable to see anything other than file boxes from this angle.

He crawled forward a few more paces. "Ness, answer me, you're gonna give me a heart attack."

The silence was finally broken. Unfortunately it was with a low growl he recognized from the day of The Mammoth attack.

He froze in place and tried to pacify her. "It's okay, sweetheart, tell your old friend Murdock what's goin' on."

"Go away." Her voice was low, cold, and unwelcoming.

Taking a deep breath and steeling himself, he cautiously crept forward the final few feet and gingerly stuck his head and shoulders through the opening, shining his flashlight down into the darkness. He tried to come up with a quip to lighten the mood, but after several moments all he could manage was, "You look like hell."

"What the fuck are you doing here? You said you'd be out of town until Thursday."

He took in her panicked eyes, the unbrushed hair tangling down the sides of her face, and the fact that she smelled as though she hadn't seen soap or water in weeks even though her appearance had been neat, if worn, only a few days before. He kept his voice low and soothing. "Ness, it is Thursday."

Her brow furrowed and she looked around the bolt-hole, confused. "No it's not."

"Yes, it is. I just got back this afternoon." He gestured around the room with the light. "Mind if I come in?"

"I do. Go away, I'm not up to company tonight." she growled.

"Tough." he responded, grasping the flashlight with his teeth once more and sliding his way down to floor level. She backed away, breathing heavily, warily watching his every move as she tried to put as much space as possible between them in the cramped space.

"How about some light?" he asked softly, motioning toward the outlet. She continued to watch him as she felt behind her for the electrical box and there was a click as her fingers found the switch on the desk lamp. Murdock turned off his flashlight and slid it into a pocket, seeing her wince as she brought her arm back to her side.

"Are you hurt?" he asked.

Her left hand came up to rub at her right arm just below the shoulder. "It's nothing, I pulled something moving the stuff from the storage unit."

His concern was evident. "Moving? Did somethin' happen?"

"You don't seriously think I'm going shell out money for a place somebody knows about?"

"Wait, you cleared out 'cause of me?" His voice took on a tone of incredulity. "Ness, it's not like I'm gonna tell anyone."

"Nothing personal, I just don't like the idea of someone being able to find me if I don't want to be found."

Murdock took an exasperated breath. "Why'd you even bring me there in the first place?"

She scowled and continued to rub at her arm. "Honestly, I asked myself that all day. I guess it's because you're like a little puppy dog, the kind that follows at your heels and just wants to be scratched behind the ears, and you don't know whether you want to kick it or pet it." She made a face. "It's disgustingly endearing. I knew you'd get a kick out of some of the stuff I had, and, sure enough, your eyes lit up like a kid's on Christmas morning when you started opening boxes."

The first tell-tale signs of a grin twitched at the edge of his lips. "You went through all that just to see me smile? I don't know what to say. Thank you."

Her emotions were not so easily redirected. "Well, I'm glad you liked it, because I've learned my lesson and I'm not going to do anything like it ever again."

"Aw, c'mon, not even for lil' ol' me?" He batted his eyes.

"No. It's bad enough you know about this place."

He sank to his knees, curled his arms up in front of his chest, hands dangling like paws, and started whimpering mournfully.

She shot him a devastating glare. "I'd have cleared out but I couldn't get it together enough to relocate and I thought I still had time."

Another whimper.

"Knock it off."

"But I only just found your sweet side."

"Then lose it again."

"But it's so cute!"

"I don't do cute."

He tilted his head to one side, widened his eyes, and whimpered again.

She stared at him and her anger slowly dissipated, to be replaced with an overwhelming sadness. "Murdock, I'm sorry." she confessed. "I know it's just my brain, I know _logically_ that none of the things I'm feeling are real, but they feel real, far more real than anything that's happening on the outside. You shouldn't be here when I'm like this."

He watched tears roll down her cheeks and looked around for a box of tissues, eyes settling on a half-empty roll of toilet paper lying in the corner, and he offered it to her. She held out her hands as if to catch it and he pitched it to her underhanded. Unrolling a good-sized segment she blew her nose noisily and tossed the wadded paper behind her to join its brethren that already overflowed the milk carton.

"When did this start?" he asked quietly.

"The morning after you left. Things were going great, I got a lot done, I was having fun for the first time in _ages_ and then it all crashed back in with no warning."

She pulled off another handful of paper and wiped at her face. "I got it into my head that it was all a horrible idea, staying here when it wasn't safe, showing you where I keep my stuff, trying to make friends when someone like me doesn't get to make friends." She blew her nose again and coughed up a wad of mucus that had trickled down the back of her throat. "I know better, I know it never ends well. Any time I try to be a normal human being it blows up in my face and I have to pack up and start over. It's not worth it."

Murdock looked worried. "Ness, you're not thinking what I think you're thinking, are ya?"

She finally favored him with a smile, albeit a decidedly sardonic one. "What's the date today?"

"December 27th, almost the 28th."

She closed her eyes for a moment and rolled her head on neck, trying to work out some of the tension while mentally calculating. "I haven't had a suicide attempt in fifteen years, two months, and some odd days. I'm not going to give it up now."

"You've been keeping track?" he asked.

"It's like being a recovering alcoholic. Every day you wake up and didn't give in to temptation the day before is a victory." She rubbed at the back of her neck with her left hand. "I promised someone I cared about once upon a time that I wouldn't give up." There was a quiet sigh. "They're not around any more but I haven't gone back on that promise yet."

Another handful of paper was pulled to daub again at her face. "I even gave up on the cutting, although that was mostly because I got tired of people looking at me funny when I tossed blood-stained clothing into the machines at the coin-op."

He smirked at the mental image of random patrons quickly gathering up their laundry and backing away. "I never really understood cutting, though in this place I've seen it done plenty of times. What's the appeal?"

Ness finally joined him on the floor, still tense and sniffling but trying her best to offer an explanation. "There are times when what's going on in your head gets so bad that your body hurts, _physically_ hurts, and there's nothing you can take to make it stop."

He nodded, familiar with the sensation.

"The only thing you can do to detract from the pain is to overwhelm your brain with more pain, to distract your mind by making your nerves send it different information that it's already receiving. At least that way you have some control over what you're feeling, even if you're hurting yourself by doing it." She paused and smiled at the memory. "I always used an X-Acto knife because it's got a small sharp blade with good control." She shook her head and stifled a sob. "It's sad when the feel of metal slicing in to your skin feels _good_ by comparison." Wrapping her arms around her knees, the sobs expanded into a half-choked litany, punctuated by small coughs. "You should just leave me alone, I'm way too fucked up to be around, you're just going to get hurt."

Murdock leaned forward. "I know you think I'm just some helpless little loony who wanders in from time to time, but I'm a lot tougher than I look. You don't have to worry about me, I know what the Purple Wobblies are like, remember?"

Her desire for solace warred with the need for solitude. When the scales finally tipped she shifted to curl up on the floor beside him, grasped the lower edge of his jacket in a shaking grip, and buried her face in the lining, studiously avoiding any actual contact with the pilot.

He automatically raised his arm to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, thought better of it, and lowered it again.

They continued to share the small space into the night, the only sounds her muffled sobbing and his quietly whispered reassurances.

* * *

Author's Notes:

* * *

This chapter is dedicated to CRC, my own real-life Murdock, who's just as crazy as I am, who pulls me back from the edge of the abyss on bad brain days, and for whom I'm happy to return the favor.

* * *

I had another 'Ghostbusters' moment while writing this chapter.

I've been listing dates and times at the beginning of each segment, and when I tried to post the date for this chapter I realized that it had to take place on a Thursday (to coincide with Murdock returning from Dr. Maggie Sullivan's house) and didn't have the first idea what date that would be.

I typed in 'December 27th' as a placeholder and made a mental note to find a calendar for 1984 somewhere online.

When I did look it up I discovered that the Thursday after the 23rd (the day Murdock and Ness last spoke) was, in fact, the 27th!

Sometimes I scare myself.

* * *

We're leaving town for a few days, so there will be another delay in posting.

Don't worry, in the immortal words of Arnold Schwarzenegger "I'll be back".


	25. On A Mission

Chapter 25: On A Mission

* * *

December 28th

1:58 p.m.

* * *

Murdock paced in front of the door to Doctor Richter's office, impatiently waiting his turn for the psychiatrist's attention.

When the door finally swung open and a haggard-looking man with reddened eyes stepped into the hallway the pilot barely waited for him to clear the way before slipping into the room and swinging the door shut behind him.

"I have to talk to you, Doc." he said without preamble.

Richter hid his surprise at the lack of the usual nonchalant distancing or the happy-go-lucky facade that were the standard of Murdock's visits and motioned his patient to the couch, but Murdock was too wound up to sit, instead opting to stand in the center of the room, hands shoved deep into his pockets and right leg jiggling as he waited for Richter to take his seat and signal that he was ready to begin.

As he settled himself, the doctor absently slid a new cassette into his recorder and turned it on while taking in Murdock's appearance.

"You don't look like you slept well last night." he observed, opening the session.

"I'm fine, I have to talk to you about somethin' else."

"Very well." Richter leaned back and folded his hands over his stomach.

Murdock glanced around the room, eyes settling briefly on the tape recorder, and took a deep breath. "I've got this friend who knows someone that needs help."

Richter leaned forward. "What sort of help."

Pulling a hand from his pocket and scratching briefly behind his ear to alleviate some of his agitation, Murdock replied, "Your kind of help, actually."

"Someone in this facility?"

Shifting his weight, Murdock pondered whether or not the Doc would entertain the idea that the basement was part of the facility. "No. Someone on the outside."

A pause as Richter explored a train of thought. "Veteran?"

Murdock shook his head. "Unfortunately, no, or I'd know where to send them."

The psychiatrist raised an eyebrow. "Civilian then. What, specifically, is the problem?"

Pacing back and forth across the small room, Murdock's eloquent hands expressed his tension as they punctuated the air while he spoke. "I think we've got a whole jumble of stuff goin' on, Doc. Paranoia. Schizophrenia. Depression. Panic attacks. Maybe even some Social Anxiety Disorder."

"You've been reading the psychology texts in the library again, haven't you?" asked the man in the chair, a slight tinge of humor coloring his voice.

A brief smile played on the pilot's lips as he quoted, "Information is power."

"Are they in someone's care?"

Murdock shook his head. "They can't afford it."

Richter began to run through a list of suggestions, ticking them off on his fingers. "The county's mental health facilities?"

"Won't do anything without a referral from a psychiatrist, which they can't afford to see."

Another finger. "State funded health care?"

"They were told that because of funding cut-backs the only way they would even be considered since they were over eighteen was if they were to become pregnant. There's a history of mental illness in her family, and she's already said that the stuff in her head is so bad that she wouldn't wish it on her worst enemy, much less her own flesh and blood."

The psychiatrist nodded solemnly, wondering about this recent revelation. "Ah, a female friend."

Murdock nodded.

Richter tried to read between the lines. "If it's as bad as you make it sound there are free suicide hotlines."

A dry twisted laugh forced itself past Murdock's lips. "That's about the only thing she has a handle on."

Another finger as the list was added to. "There are free counseling sessions. Group therapy. It would be a chance to-"

Murdock cut him off exasperatedly. "I know the difference between someone who's goin' through a rough patch and needs to talk and someone who needs their brain chemistry adjusted."

Richter pressed the tips of his fingers against the bridge of his nose. "Can someone have her involuntarily committed as a danger to herself or others?"

"Where she'd go even crazier by being locked up with a bunch of people she doesn't know and doesn't trust? Sure, she'd get help while she was there, and as soon as she was no longer considered a threat they'd cut her loose... and cut off her meds while they were at it." The pilot's scowl spoke volumes about his thoughts on the matter.

He had finally stopped pacing and now nailed the man with a desperate look. "Could you see her? Give her somethin' to help?"

Richter looked decidedly uncomfortable. "I could see her, yes, after hours on my own time and give her an evaluation off the record. But I'm a psychiatrist for the military, the second I write a civilian a prescription or a referral I put my license on the line."

Shoulders slumping in defeat, Murdock wearily walked over to the couch and sat himself down on it heavily. He pulled off his cap, ran his hand through his hair, and exhaled shakily. "So there's nothin' we can do?"

"I'm afraid not."

"What if you wrote me the prescriptions? I could palm the pills and give them to her." Murdock's eyes held a glimmer of hope.

"They'd show up in the reports. What happens when my evaluation comes around and someone notices that I'm handing you enough meds to put you in a coma? I'm already fielding uncomfortable questions about some of the things you need to be on just to get through the day."

Shoving the cap back on his head Murdock stood and headed toward the door.

Richter made as if to stand. "Where are you going?"

Murdock's reply was crisp. "Out. It seems like I'm not gonna get any help here."

Sitting on the edge of the chair, Richter tried to dissuade him. "I can't help her, but I can help you. Tell me about your role in this, it's obviously got you worked up." He paused, trying to gauge the man's reaction. "Is this someone you're involved with during the times you're not at the V.A.?"

Murdock shook his head as he pulled the door shut behind him. "Now you sound like Behl. This isn't about me."

Richter reached over, turned off the cassette recorder, and sat in silence for several minutes after the door closed, trying to make sense of this recent turn of events.

"I'll say one thing for you, Captain, your visits are never boring."

* * *

December 28th

2:11 p.m.

* * *

Murdock strode angrily into his room and aimed a kick at his arcade game, leaving a scuff over the brightly colored graphics that adorned the side. Stalking across the linoleum floor and flinging himself on to his bed, he was scowling at the ceiling a minute later when there was a hesitant knock on his door.

"I thee we're havimg a temper tamtrum." observed the man in the doorway.

Murdock pressed a hand over his eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry, Behl, I didn't mean to raise a ruckus, it's been a long day."

"I'm goimg to athume thith hath thomethimg to do with the fact that thimgs didm't thoumd very cheerful dowmstairth latht might."

"Heard some of that, did ya?"

"Yew kithim' the girls amd makim' 'em cry agaim, Schnowt? I'm really gomma have to teach yew how to be a gemtlemam."

Laughing quietly at his friend's attempt at humor, Murdock pulled his hand from his face and sat up, motioning Behl into the room. "Buddy, you wouldn't know a gentleman if one walked up and handed you a callin' card."

"I got yew to thmile, though." Behl observed, lowering himself stiffly onto the far side of the bed. "Whath goim' om? I dom't evem thimk yew got back to your room before dawm."

Rubbing his eyes, Murdock nodded. "I was up with Ness all night. She's in a world of hurt right now and there's not a damned thing I can do about it."

Taking a deep breath, he summarized his visit to the basement, the long talk he'd had with Ness once she'd calmed down enough to hold a conversation without lapsing back into the depths of depression, and the less-than-helpful session he'd just finished having with Richter.

"Yew've beem a buthy boy. Did yew get amy thleep at all?"

Murdock shook his head. "Barely got back in time to throw pseudo-me on the floor of my closet before someone wondered why I wasn't getting up for breakfast and discovered that my bed was being slept in by a pile of laundry. I had a session with the Doc scheduled for two o'clock and was too wound up to sleep."

They sat in companionable silence for several minutes, both lost in thought. "Tho, what yew gomma do about your girl?"

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Murdock let out an exhausted sigh. "I don't know. I'm too tired to think straight right now."

Behl threw out the only suggestion he could muster. "How about that friemd you've got, the ome that geth yew thtuff? He got amy commectioms umder the table?"

Murdock closed his eyes. "I've been thinkin' about that. There's just too many problems. If I tell him I need to get my hands on medication he's gonna have to tell the rest of my friends I'm askin', and they're gonna wanna know why." He shrugged. "Ness is ready to bolt as it is, if she finds out that it's not just you and me that know about her bein' here she'll take off, and she's definitely gonna ask where I got them if I suddenly show up with meds." He stared at a spot on the floor. "Then there's the fact that my friend puts his ass on the line each and every time we need somethin'." Pausing, he considered the man at his side and debated how much he should share. "My friends have found themselves in a mess of trouble not of their makin', Behl, there's a chance that somethin' might happen that'll keep 'em from bein' around. Having to suddenly come down off psych meds is worse than not bein' on 'em in the first place. I couldn't do that to her."

"We're left with mo optiomth them. We're goimg to have to trutht her to take care of herthelf. The'th beem doim' it thinth before either of uth came alomg."

Leaning his elbows on his knees, Murdock hung his head. "I know. She says it'll pass, it always does, and that she'll give me a buzz one night when she's feelin' better, I just hate seein' her like this."

Behl put a reassuring hand on his friend's back. "It'll be okay, Schnowt, the'll be back to her mormal thmarky thelf im mo time. C'mom, leth thee if we cam thtill grab uth thome lumch."

Attempting a small smile for Behl's benefit, Murdock begged off. "I need a nap. How about I join you in attackin' the cafeteria at dinner?"

Nodding and pushing himself to his feet, Behl tottered across the floor to the doorway. "Yew gomma be okay?"

Murdock nodded and slipped off his shoes and jacket, tossing the latter onto a nearby chair and flinging his cap on top of it a half-second later. "Yeah. Go gum somethin' to death for me, would ya?"

Behl waved once and quietly shut the door behind him, disappearing down the hallway. Murdock pulled back the covers and slipped underneath them, then sat up for a moment, turned on the walkie-talkie on his bedside table, and shortly drifted into a troubled sleep accompanied by the quiet hiss of static.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Special thanks to CRC for popping off a great title for this chapter with barely a second's thought. Nicely done!

I don't know if the bureaucratic tangle of red tape Ness is facing applied to Southern California in 1984, but it's true in the state of Oregon right now.

Welcome to my world.

On the plus-side, I did manage to squeeze out one more chapter before going out of town. I couldn't leave you with Ness snotting up the inside of Murdock's jacket, now could I?


	26. Alphabet Soup

Chapter 26:

Alphabet Soup

* * *

December 31st

11:28 pm.

* * *

Murdock's face was lit with flickering light from the television as synthesized beeps wove themselves through the room, mingling with the soft sound of static. He sat cross-legged on the floor, waging a fierce battle against pixelated foes and determined to beat his own high score, so used to the quiet background hiss of the walkie-talkie that he almost dropped his controller when a faint voice crept in behind him.

"Mammoth Slayer to Knight Of The Sky."

Video game forgotten he nearly yanked the cord out of the game console in his rush to get to his bedside table and the machine skidded across the linoleum behind him for a moment like a faithful puppy before he dropped the controller with a clatter. The screen had become a garbled mass of fractured graphics as the violent tug jarred the game cartridge and a horrible low buzz now issued forth from the television as if annoyed at Murdock's sudden lack of interest.

He unplugged the power cord from the walkie-talkie and depressed the talk button. "Knight Of The Sky To Mammoth Slayer. It's good to hear your voice again."

The lack of response from the other end stretched on so long that he was beginning to wonder if he'd imagined the words he'd heard a moment ago, then the static broke off and she offered hesitantly, "I'm amazed you're still talking to me."

He smiled to himself. "Why wouldn't I be? I've seen Wobblies before."

There was another short pause. "Are you sure these things are working right? There's an awful noise in the background whenever you talk."

Murdock laughed and strode up to the television, turned a knob until it clicked, and the box blinked into blackness and silence as he toggled the talk button again. "That's just the TV. It didn't take kindly to being interrupted."

"I can call back later if you're busy."

"Well, there's an alien invasion fleet that needs to be blown out of the sky, but it can wait."

There was a very long pause this time and he imagined her laughing at him on the other end. Sure enough, her voice still held a slight chuckle when she responded. "You feel up to one of your late-night excursions, oh brave slayer of little green men?"

"Sure do. There's a floater on shift with DeRane tonight, so we're playin' with a wild card and I'll have to sneak out after they do their rounds, but it shouldn't be too long. Want me to head your way?"

"Well, yours truly finally escaped from her self-inflicted tomb and hunted down a hot shower. While I was out and about I also stopped by my business associate's place and picked up my commission payment. After the week I've had I'm thinking that I need to splurge on some food that doesn't involve the phrase 'add hot water', would you care to join me for a bite now that I no longer smell like something that crawled under a house and died?"

"You think I'd turn down a meal that didn't involve either jello or green beans? You're crazier than I am. Besides, I'm a growin' boy, I need somethin' from each of the four food groups: Cheeseburgers, ketchup, sugar, and caffeine."

"That all-night diner down the street serves a mean burger. Should we meet there or on the roof?"

"Definitely the roof, far less security to dodge if we take Drainpipe Lane to Diner Avenue than if I try to slip out the front door."

He could hear her chortling when she answered. "Sounds good, I'll be lurking under the hatch. See you soon. Over."

"Ten-four, Mammoth Slayer. Over and out."

* * *

December 31st

11:52 p.m.

* * *

He shut the door at the top of the stairwell behind him quietly, made his way to the hatch, and rapped on it with his knuckles. "Ding dong, Avon calling."

The metal raised up a few inches and Ness peered at him through the gap. "You'd have been better off shelling Girl Scout cookies, I haven't worn make-up in years."

He chuckled and helped her heft the hatch up. "Dang, now you've got me cravin' Samoas."

"Mmm, dog food cookies." she muttered appreciatively as she hauled herself onto the roof.

He raised an eyebrow. "Dog food cookies?"

"Samoas. They look horrible, like finding something that your pet threw up, but they taste so good. Bloody things are addictive."

They lowered the hatch and he watched her slip the padlock back onto its ring and click it shut before she shouldered her backpack. "You look a lot better than the last time I saw you."

She shrugged. "I'm still not feeling great but I couldn't stand staring at the basement walls for another minute and if I had to look at one more serving of oatmeal or another bowl of instant soup I was going to lose what was left of my mind. There's only so much you can cook with only a coffee maker at your disposal."

She was at the corner of the building and ready to swing over the edge and onto the drainpipe when she realized that he hadn't followed. "Did we forget something?" she asked.

He sauntered up with a smile on his face. "Yup, these." Pulling two triangular pieces of brightly colored paper out of the pocket of his jacket he handed her one, popped open the one still in his hand, and settled it onto his head, adjusting the elastic band at his chin.

"Holy cats, is it New Year's Eve already?" she looked surprised.

"Sure is!"

She squinted at hers in the dark. "Okay, I know that I'm usually a little lost on the date, but these say 1983."

He shrugged sheepishly. "Yeah, they're from last year. I didn't think you'd be calling tonight and that's what I had handy."

Popping hers open she settled it onto her head. "Works for me, I just wanted to make sure I wasn't _that_ lost. We can tell our waitress that we're temporally challenged."

Murdock chuckled. "Dang time warps, they'll get you every time."

* * *

January 1st

12:14 a.m.

* * *

"Smoking or Non?" asked the waitress tiredly.

The restaurant was deserted and they found themselves alone with one waitress and the sounds of someone in the kitchen singing along with the radio.

"Chain, please." responded Ness with a smirk.

The waitress did a double-take and then smiled. "Right this way."

Settling into a marigold booth in the far corner, Murdock and Ness asked for drinks and set about perusing the establishment's choices. "Hey, they've got the good strawberry shortcakes here, the kind with the biscuits." observed Murdock.

Ness eyed him over the top of her menu. "Do you always check the dessert menu first?"

He looked up. "I've got to know if I need to save room for something." he explained matter-of-factly.

She shrugged as the waitress arrived with two sodas and asked, "Have you decided?"

"I'll have a turkey sandwich. Double turkey, I'll pay extra. Lots of fries. Both ketchup and ranch for dipping."

Murdock looked up innocently. "I'm cravin' a nice big burger. Do you have any buffalo?"

"Excuse me?" she asked, pen poised over her order book.

"Y'know, buffalo. _Oh give me a home_ and so forth."

"Sorry, sir. No buffalo."

"How about shark? I want a shark burger. Little bit of tartar sauce on top, maybe?"

Her response was a blank look and he continued, "Eel? Prairie Dog? Schnauzer? Those funny little sausages that come from Vienna? Maybe a little bit of caviar that's been lurking in the back of the freezer so long that the package is stuck to the shelf?"

She looked as though she couldn't decide whether to be exasperated or burst out laughing. "Sir, your burger options are beef, beef, and beef. Which would you prefer?"

"You have beef? Why didn't you tell me?!?" he exclaimed, his eyes wide with amazement. "Make it a bacon cheeseburger, please, with everything on it except the kitchen sink. Oh, and fries, _lots_ of fries, you have those too, right?"

The waitress eyed him warily. "Celebrated the New Year a bit early, did you?"

"Actually, I think he's sober, which is even scarier." Ness supplied, reaching over the table to swat him playfully on the shoulder.

The waitress finished scribbling on her pad and walked away, tossing them a look over her shoulder. A few moments later it became apparent that she'd finally decided to go with 'burst out laughing' as her voice and the cook's echoed through the otherwise empty restaurant, their peals of laughter drowning out the radio.

"I think she's sweet on me." announced Murdock.

"I think she's figured out where you just escaped from." countered Ness, playing with the straw in her drink.

They both looked up as the waitress reappeared, still chuckling.

Murdock waved her over. "Hey, you don't happen to have a magic marker handy, do ya?"

The waitress fumbled through the pockets in her apron and pulled out a thick blue marker. "You're in luck, I was just working on the sandwich board for tomorrow morning's specials. Careful, that one bleeds a lot, it always soaks through to the next sheet."

He thanked her and uncapped the pen. Leaving his seat and leaning over Ness he set to work on her party hat, scribbling out the '3' and scrawling a large '4' next to it and added a smiley face to the side for added effect. "There you go, sweetheart, all fixed!"

"Great, we're not only current but we've gotten everyone in a half-mile radius high off the fumes." she said with a smirk as she watched him pull his own hat off and vandalize it gleefully.

"Ah, much better. Thank you so much," he glanced at the waitress' name-tag as he capped and handed back the marker, "Derba."

She reached up and fiddled with the name-tag. "Actually, it's Debra. They mis-printed my badge when I first started working here. Funny thing is, I kinda liked it so I never asked them for a new one."

"I like it, it's unique." he said approvingly.

She shrugged and smiled. "It's also great for those 'where the hell do I know you from?' moments when I'm not at work and run into someone. If they call me Derba I know that they're customers and I don't feel so bad for not having any idea what their name is. It's only if they call me Debra that I start to wonder if they were important and I just came out looking like an idiot."

Ness swallowed a mouthful of soda and jumped into the conversation. "So, Derba, how'd you get wrangled into working when you should be out drinking champagne?"

"No champagne for me this year." She patted her stomach. "Three months pregnant. I'm not showing yet, but I'm trying to get in as many hours as I can before I get too big to do more than waddle around."

Ness looked wistful for a brief moment. "Congratulations."

"Thank you. We're hoping for a girl. We've already got two boys and I've always wanted one I could dress up in little matching outfits with. Do you two have any kids?"

Murdock and Ness looked at each other for a moment before bursting out laughing. "Um, no." stammered Ness. "When I was younger I had a habit of taking in other people's strays and now I've had enough child-rearing to last me a lifetime."

There was a loud _ding_ from the kitchen and Debra headed over to pick up their orders.

"I didn't know you raised any kids." noted Murdock.

"I have an older sister who liked doing what it took to make children, but didn't like to bother doing the work of actually raising them." She took another sip of her soda. "I started changing diapers when I was five and played mommy to three boys until I was almost twenty."

"How'd you manage that with the stuff in your head?" he asked.

"It wasn't so bad back then. Of course, I wasn't what you'd call a normal child by any means, but that was back when I could still pass as a functional human being." She tugged at the elastic strap under her chin absently. "Things just kept getting worse over the years."

He nodded and poked at the ice in his drink with his straw.

Leaning her elbows on the table she elaborated. "I grew up in the kind of family that didn't believe in illness. Having pneumonia meant that you were sent home from school and helped mom with her chores. No one knew that I was horribly near-sighted until the sixth grade when a teacher finally noticed that I could only read stuff on the blackboard if I watched her write it. I couldn't see the chalk but I could watch her arm move and tell what letters she was putting up there and I honestly believed that the world looked that fuzzy to everyone. As far as the stuff in my head, that sort of thing was taboo, we didn't even talk about it."

Leaning back as the waitress approached, Ness eyed the food greedily as a plate was slid onto the table before her. "Honey, you are my goddess right now, I am absolutely starving!"

Without further ado she grabbed half of the sandwich, took an enormous bite, and began chewing happily.

* * *

January 1st

1:46 a.m.

* * *

"Murdock, you are going to break that table!" shouted Ness over the din.

"I am not! I'll have you know that I have an uncanny sense of balance and a keen grasp of the exact amount of stress that the standard diner table can take before suffering total collapse!" he hollered back.

Ness looked over at Debra and Matthew, the cook, both of whom were lounging in a nearby booth and laughing hysterically, before replying.

"So, I can add table-dancing to your repertoire of hidden skills?" she yelled good-naturedly.

"I have many hidden talents, m'lady." he countered, stepping onto the seat and then down to the floor. "You should see me Tango!" he added as he held out his hand.

"Kid, I wouldn't have the first clue how to Tango. You'd end up with a rose up your nose and your toes flattened." she snarked.

They all turned as the front doors swung open and a half-dozen people stumbled in, their eyes wide at the volume level of the music that blared through the restaurant.

"Uh oh, party's over." shouted Matthew, dashing into the back to turn down the radio.

"But I was just getting started!" whined Murdock, looking crestfallen as the music suddenly returned to the level of background noise. "The DJ said that he was going to play _Frankie Goes To Hollywood_ next and that's so much fun to dance to!"

Debra came back from seating the new arrivals. "Judging by the smell of them, the bar crowd's starting to show up." she whispered. "We'll be filling up pretty soon. Much as I hate to ask you two to settle down, I really can't afford to have anyone complaining to my boss in the morning about the ruckus in here."

"Fair enough," answered Ness, ignoring Murdock's pleading look, "it's just about time for us to head home anyway before this place gets too crowded for my tastes." She wandered back to their booth, sat down, and scooped up her backpack.

She was rummaging around inside for her wallet when Murdock slid into the seat opposite hers. He reached for the check on the table but she snagged it out from under his hand. "You sure you don't want me to pick up the tab?" he asked.

"Very few people hang around once they've seen what I'm like on the bad days. I owe you for sticking by me."

He leaned back in his seat, resigned, but added, "Okay, but I'm gettin' the next one."

She left a huge tip on the table and smiled as she slid out of the booth and headed toward the cash register. "Deal."

* * *

February 12th

10:03 p.m.

* * *

Murdock was sitting on his bed reading when the walkie-talkie sprang to life.

"Mammoth Slayer to Knight Of The Sky."

He marked his page and scooped up the device. "Hello Mammoth Slayer, haven't heard from you in a couple of days, you doin' okay?"

"Just had a couple of 'no-humans-for-me' days but nothing overwhelming. Of course, now I'm having one of those weird nights where I'm not feeling up to company but I'm bored out of my mind."

"We could play the A-B-C Game." Murdock suggested.

She sounded hesitant. "I don't know that one."

"It's easy. We make up a story, I start with the first sentence and it has to begin with the letter 'A', then you supply the next one beginning with 'B', I take 'C' and so on."

She laughed. "Oh dear, why do I get the feeling that between the two of us this could get really bizarre?"

"I'll start. _A clear blue sky hung overhead._"

She paused for a moment and then offered, "_Buildings stretched into that sky on either side of the two people who fought the crowds on the sidewalk._"

"Very good. _Casually glancing around they took in their surroundings._"

There was a pause as she pondered. "_Dozens of office buildings surrounded them, reflecting back the sun's glare from the endless stream of windows._"

"_Everything around them was shiny and new._"

"_Forging ahead they cut a path through the throng._"

"_Gargoyles stared down at them._"

Ness snickered. "Gargoyles on top of skyscrapers? How would you even be able to see them from down there?"

"It's my world, there can be gargoyles if I want there to be gargoyles." he replied. "It's your turn."

"_Hot on the trail of an adventure, the duo headed north up the busy street._"

"_Intent on their journey, they didn't notice the gigantic shape that suddenly loomed up in front of them._"

"_"Jumping Jehosaphat!" all of the other pedestrians cried in unison as they scrambled into side-streets and convenient lobbies._"

He smirked and pressed onward. "_"King Kong!" the two remaining onlookers shouted in amazement._"

"_"Looks like it's just us versus him," shouted the woman, "whatever will we do?"_"

"_"Murdock, Knight Of The Sky and Defender Of The Weak shall slay him!" answered the man._"

Ness snickered over the radio. "What are you going to do, knit him a really big strait-jacket?"

"Well, if you'd stop stallin' and give me "N" I'll tell ya!" he answered saucily.

"Fine. _"No chance, he's bigger than Godzilla!"_"

"_"Oh, contraire madmoiselle, I have this!"_"

"_"Putty?" she asked, confused._"

She could practically hear the gears in his head turning as he tried to come up with a way to stop King Kong with putty. "_"Quick-drying putty, capable of sticking anything to anything in two seconds flat!"_"

"_"Right on, go ahead and give it a go."_"

"_Stretching back, he flung the putty at the beast with all of his might._"

Her voice held a hint of snideness. "_"Tell me if I'm way off base here, but was that supposed to hit him in the kneecap?"_"

"_"Unfortunately, he's really really tall and I'm not that good of a thrower."_"

"_"Very well, now you just have to get him to kneel down and we'll have him trapped."_"

"_"Without a doubt!" he said, sticking his tongue out at the creature and luring him down to pavement level with his taunts of, "Your mother wrecks skyscrapers in Hell!"_"

"Oh, great, I get stuck with 'X'. Murdock, what the hell starts with an X?"

"Xenon, xenophobic, xylophone, x-ray, xebec, that's a kind of ship, xerus, which is a type of squirrel..."

"Those are not helpful." she muttered exasperatedly. "Okay, I'll cheat a little. _"X marks the spot!" she shouted, drawing an 'x' on the sidewalk with lipstick as a landing zone._"

"_"Yippie, he's down!" the man shouted happily as the massive ape found himself stuck to the street._"

"_"Zowie, that must be like stepping in the biggest wad of gum known to mankind!" she said, giving him a high-five._"

Murdock could hear her chuckling as her voice came over the walkie. "That was fun."

"Wanna do another one?" he asked expectantly.

"Sure. I've got nothing pressing to attend to." she said nonchalantly.

Deciding to make things more interesting, Murdock offered, "Okay then, how about a theme?"

"What did you have in mind?"

He glanced at the book lying on his bed. "Well, I'm re-reading Jules Verne's _20,000 Leagues Under The Sea_, so maybe a submarine story?"

"Is it going to have a loopy-looking sea-serpent in it like when you ride the submarines at Disneyland?" she asked, chuckling.

His jaw dropped at the reference. "I can't imagine you at Disneyland. What did you do, sneak in on the monorail track after hours to avoid the crowds and turn on the rides by yourself?"

Her voice sounded decidedly amused at the prospect. "No thanks, the last person who tried to sneak in on the monorail track learned the hard way that a nice messy 'splat' when the monorail comes by is the only true cure for sheer stupidity." She paused, reminiscing. "The last time I was there was before the big bicentennial thing they did and this was back when I was still on my meds. A friend of mine used to get complimentary ticket books from the people they worked for and they'd let me tag along. We'd go on weekdays during the off season when the crowds were light and spend the day wandering around, watching the free shows, and arguing about which rides to use our tickets on."

Murdock raised an eyebrow. "That _was_ a while ago, they haven't sold the ticket books in several years."

She sounded surprised. "Really? Wow, I am out of the loop."

Inspiration struck. "How about a Disneyland themed A-B-C Game? We can even pretend they still have tickets. I'll let you start this time so you don't get that blasted "X"."

"You've got it." she replied. "_Anaheim was awash with the golden glow of sunshine._"

"_Both of them sauntered through an entrance tunnel under the railroad station, past the attraction posters that lined the tunnel walls, and emerged into a picturesque turn-of-the-century town square._"

"_Children dashed this way and that underfoot, nearly getting trampled by the other guests as everyone tried to hurry to their favorite attractions._"

"You really focus on the dark side of things, don't you? Why shouldn't the kids be excited? It's Disneyland!"

"Hey, I made it nice and sunny, didn't I?" she snarked. "I can't help it if kids are annoying and underfoot." There was a pause, although she didn't let the walkie-talkie return to static, and Murdock waited for her to finish. "Okay, I'll try to keep it less annoying and more upbeat."

"Good. _Disneyland was laid out before them, Sleeping Beauty's Castle beckoning them forward past the quaint shops._"

"_Everyone was having a marvelous time and all the children were suddenly well-behaved as they made their way to the hub and tried to decide which land to visit first._"

"_Frontierland, with its tall wooden entrance, called to them and he took her elbow and led her to the left._"

"_"God no", she shouted, "Frontierland's boring, we should go on the Jungle Cruise first!"_"

Murdock chuckled. "_A helicopter swung by overhead as they talked, heading for the landing pad between Tomorrowland and Main Street USA._"

"That's cheating, it started with an "A", you just wanted to make an airplane reference. I don't even think they have helicopter service any more."

"Shush, you. It's my game. You're right though, they shut it down after the accident on flight 417 so it's been about fifteen years."

She let it slide and continued on. "_Insistently, she dragged him past the stylized wooden masks that guarded the entrance to Adventureland._"

"_"Jungle Cruise it is," he said, "though I vote we head for the Haunted Mansion next."_"

"_"Killer ride, the Haunted Mansion, I fully endorse it and the 999 dead things inside."_"

"_"Let's visit Bear Country next and watch the Jamboree," he suggested, "but I still want to swing through Frontierland so we can go to the island and play in the caves."_"

She came back after a few moments, chuckling. "I'm going to hold my tongue on that one."

Murdock frowned at his walkie-talkie. "Why, what's so funny?"

"Nothing. I was just going to make a really off-color comment about boys and their Freudian fascination with caves."

"Hey, now, play nice." he countered. "Disneyland is a family-friendly environment."

"I also can't believe you skipped Pirates Of The Caribbean."

"Well, you skipped the Tiki Room, so there!"

"Okay," she admitted, "but if we're forced to go through Frontierland I insist we ride that new runaway train coaster."

"You've got it."

"I've lost track, what letter were we on?" she asked.

"It's your turn, with "M"." he answered.

"_Moving on from exploring caves in Frontierland, they arrived next in Fantasyland with its cheesy cardboard facades_."

"Actually, they just totally upgraded Fantasyland, it looks awesome. _"No way you're getting me on It's A Small World", he said, "that song always gets stuck in my head"._"

"_"Oh, lighten up," she responded, "what would you like to use your tickets on then?"_"

"_"Peter Pan's Flight!" he answered eagerly, "I love the part where you soar over London."_"

"You and your obsession with being up in the air. Most people clamor for the Matterhorn. _"Quick, shove some of those kids out of the way so we can get in line!"_"

"Hey, I thought you were gonna stop picking on the kids!" he chided. "_Rifling through their well-used ticket books, he suggested that they head over to the next section while there were still some left._"

"We're running out of tickets and letters of the alphabet, so I guess we'd better hurry. _"Skyway to Tomorrowland should be our next ride then, it'll take us right there!"_"

"_"Tomorrowland's my favorite," he shouted excitedly, "it's got Adventure Thru Inner Space, the PeopleMover, the Rocket Jets, Mission To Mars, and Space Mountain!"_"

"You want to take me on Adventure Thru Inner Space? That's a total make-out ride! Between that and the caves I'm not so sure I want to go to Disneyland with you anymore." she said dryly.

"Hey, that's not very nice. Besides, I think Space Mountain's new since you were there last."

"Yup, I've heard of it but it wasn't there the last time I went. Mission To Mars is new too, though it sounds like it's just an upgrade of Flight To The Moon. _"Unless I'm mistaken," she said, "we've got way more rides than we have tickets left, especially the E tickets!"_"

"_"Very well, I'll just have to hop on over to that nifty space-age ticket booth over there and get us some more."_"

"_"Well, I guess that brings us to the Submarine Voyage, which started this whole mess."_"

"_"X-actly, it's finally time to go look at some mermaids."_"

"I think you're cheating again." Ness commented. "_"You want to grab some hamburgers and go watch the parade?"_"

"_"Zat sounds like a great idea!"_ _he answered, dragging her along behind him as he ran to the Space Bar._"

She laughed at him over the walkie-talkie. "Oh yeah, definitely cheating."

"How about another one to make up for it?" he asked.

They traded letters late into the night, and finally (somewhere during their sixth or seventh attempt to come up with a new word that started with "Q" she sleepily broke off the game.

"It's getting pretty late, I think it's just about time to turn in."

"Aw," pouted Murdock, "I was having fun!"

She yawned loudly. "Sorry, but I was running around all day and I'm beat."

His voice turned syrupy. "Did our wittle girl have a big day?"

"Yup, your 'wittle girl' needs a nap."

"Does the wittle girl want a wuwwaby?" he asked jokingly.

He heard her snort with laughter. "I haven't heard a lullaby in far longer than I care to think about."

"Well, then, it's settled. You leave your walkie on and I'll throw a rubber band around mine so I don't have to hold the button down. I'll curl up and sing until I fall asleep and it'll be like having your own radio station. I hope you like Sinatra, I've been in an Ol' Blue Eyes mood all day."

"Sinatra's good. If you get annoying I'll just turn it off."

He stabbed at the talk button. "Smart ass."

"Not like you'd know since I won't be saying anything anyway."

"That's true."

She chuckled sleepily. "Goodnight Murdock. I'll give you a call later."

"Goodnight Ness. Don't let the basement bugs bite." He rummaged through a drawer until he found a rubber band and then jury-rigged his walkie. "You're listening to the dulcet tones of KHMM, the home of Howling Mad Radio." he began in a deep announcers voice. "Come with us now for a charming medley of Frank Sinatra's greatest hits. First up, _"Strangers In The Night_"."

His soft voice wove through his room and a small expanse of basement for quite some time before sleep finally claimed him.

* * *

February 13th

6:42 a.m.

* * *

Ness was having a nightmare in which freakish beasts with over-sized heads and huge plastic smiles chased her through an empty carnival at night when the sound of a phone ringing dragged her awake.

"The hell?" she mumbled as she blinked in the darkness. Reaching for her lamp she squinted at the sudden brightness and looked around the room as she heard Murdock's voice.

"Professor Tarr's occupational therapy, how may we help you?" he answered sleepily and she laughed as she realized that he'd left the rubber band on his walkie-talkie overnight.

Knowing that with his side active he'd never hear her if she tried to call him, and feeling somewhat voyeuristic, she decided mischievously to listen in on the conversation.

"You're where? Why, what's goin' on?" There was a distinct pause and she tried to imagine who might be on the other end. "That's not good, what's the plan, Colonel? Fifteen minutes? I can be ready by then. Should I wait for Face to scam me out? No, you're right, it's not safe if they know what room I'm in, I'll sneak out onto the grounds and keep an eye out for you. Yeah, don't worry, I'll be careful."

Moments later she heard background noises and she imagined him dashing around his room in a frenzy as drawers opened and were slammed shut again.

Picking up the walkie-talkie she turned up the volume and listened. "What's going on up there, kid? Where are you going in such a hurry at this hour?" she wondered to herself.

With the volume at maximum she nearly dropped the device and definitely flinched when she heard a crashing noise and the sound of several sets of heavy footsteps.

"You Murdock?" snarled an unfamiliar voice.

"No, sorry, my name's Clark. Murdock's been moved to the other end of the hall." Murdock responded.

"Bullshit, that's him." said another voice. "Time to take a little ride, Mister Murdock. The boss has it on good authority that you're the one to talk to about a little problem we're having with some of your friends."

Ness listened, silent and intent, as the sounds of a scuffle came over the small speaker in her hand. Then one of the tough voices said something that she couldn't quite make out to which Murdock responded, "Oh, I've been meaning to visit the place. I've heard she's a nice lady, loved her in _Some Like It Hot_."

"Shut up wise guy." snarled a third unfamiliar voice and then there was silence as the group left the room.

Ness stared at the ominously quiet radio. "Oh shit, kid, who'd you piss off this time? _Some Like It Hot_? They've got to be going to the Monroe Club at the other end of town and from what I've heard those are not the guys you want to mess with." Shutting off her walkie-talkie with a click and setting it down quickly, she reached up to haul herself into the crawlspace and hurried to the access hatch on the roof, but by the time she tasted fresh air the only things in the parking lot were several staff cars and a black van pulling in at high speed.

Keeping low she watched as someone stepped out of the van, looked around fruitlessly, and then strode into the V.A. She wondered if these were the friends Murdock had spoken to on the phone and was about to start down the drainpipe to alert them when the man stormed back out at high speed and dove back into the waiting vehicle, which tore out of the lot with a screech of tires.

"Dammit." she swore to herself. "What if they don't know about the Club?" She shimmied down the pipe and onto the lawn, looking for a pay phone as she sprinted to the sidewalk. Finding one half a block down she dug in her pockets for change and slipped two dimes and a nickel into the machine.

"Los Angeles Police Department." came a brusque voice.

"I'm calling to report a kidnapping." she said breathlessly.

She could picture the man on the other end looking for a pen and after a short pause he said, "What's your name and location?"

Ness grimaced. "I don't want to give my name, this an anonymous tip."

"Location?"

"I'm at the V.A. Hospital. My friend was just taken from his room."

"He's a patient?"

"Yes. He lives there."

"Are you an employee of the facility?"

"No." she hedged.

There was a suspicious pause on the other end of the line. "What ward?"

She felt hope slipping away from her. "Psychiatric." she answered lamely.

Her suspicion that things were going badly was confirmed when she heard the hardness in his tone as he asked the next question. "Are you a resident as well?"

"Well, not exactly. You see, I was asleep and overheard-"

"Ma'am, we deal very severely with prank calls here." His voice was gruff.

"This isn't a prank! Several men came into his room and took him away!" she shouted over the line.

"Can you describe them?" he asked impatiently.

"No, I was listening in over a walkie-talkie." She scowled. "You're not taking me seriously, are you?"

"You're calling anonymously to tell us that someone's been kidnapped in broad daylight from a psych ward. Now, how does that sound to you?"

She slammed the phone into its cradle violently and hissed at it. "Bastard." Wiggling the coin return lever and sticking her fingers into the return slot, she added, "You owe me twenty-five cents, you jerk."

Glancing up and down the deserted sidewalk she ran her hand through her hair and considered her dilemma.

"The cops won't help, the staff at the V.A. isn't going to be able to do anything, and you don't know who these friends of his are. The poor kid's in trouble and you're the only one who knows where the hell he is. Think, you idiot, THINK! How the hell is scraggly off-cast like you going to get her chubby ass into a ritzy place like the Monroe Club?"

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly seemed to help. "I need an angle. A plan. A scam. A secret passage. Hell, I'll settle for a way to make it past the doorman." Her eyes lit up. "What I need is a room full of drag queens."

* * *

Author's Notes:

First of all, a huge hello to Cap'n Awesome, who poked me via review and demanded that I post an update!

This chapter was half-finished when I got side-tracked with another project. Well, two actually, both involving Disneyland history which is something I love to research! (I don't suppose any of my readers know how wide the PeopleMover track in Anaheim is? I'm going with an estimate of 8 feet.)

Because of the 'poke' I flipped back to this story and took the time to give everyone a double-length chapter to thank them for waiting.

(Over 7,000 words. WHEW!)

* * *

Yes, Murdock was playing Space Invaders, which was released as an arcade game in 1978 and became available for the Atari 2600 in 1980. It would therefore most definitely have been available for our favorite pilot to play in the comfort of his room in late 1984. I don't know if the Atari did the 'scrambled graphics' thing, but my old-school Nintendo would get pissed off if you so much as sneezed near it.

* * *

I love the A-B-C Game, it's especially fun when played with multiple people instant-messaging together. Particularly if the people have wicked senses of humor and twisted imaginations.

I decided to use some of my Disneyland research (and copies of the 1985 and 1974 guidebooks that were posted online by the magnificent blogger _Vintage Disneyland Tickets_) to round out the game.

I hope it brought back some fun memories for my fellow Disneyland fans.

* * *

Murdock's little 'broadcast' was a hat-tip to an actual radio show. Dwight Schultz really does (did?) have a show called Howling Mad Radio, made up mostly of political commentary and various impressions/impersonations (or so I believe from what I can gather since I can't seem to find any of the shows archived online).

If anyone knows where I can download them please feel free to give me a heads-up.

* * *

Does anyone know if Samoas (also known as Caramel deLites in some areas) were actually sold by the Girl Scouts in 1984?

The recipe has been around for a long time and the Girl Scouts have been selling cookies for nearly a century now, but I can't find any reference to when that particular variety entered the official realm of 'Girl Scout Cookies' so if I'm wrong, please chalk it up to artistic license.

* * *

On a different note, I need help answering a continuity question. I know that Murdock was born in Texas, that his mother died when he was young and that he was raised by either his Grandmother or both Grandparents, but does anyone know at what point he ended up in Southern California? There is an episode (_Taxicab Wars_ if memory serves) where he points out a local landmark and states that this is where he used to take his old girlfriends (I watched the entire series over the summer of 2008 so my recall is good but a bit fuzzy here and there), but I don't remember if we're ever told if this was before his stint in the army or after.

It's for one of the story requests I've received, so I've got plenty of time before I need an answer, I just wanted to throw the question out there as early as possible.

I'm also trying to come up with a date for his admittance to the V.A. for inclusion in the same story. Right now I'm working with early/mid 1973, assuming that he was still considered 'functional' (though not completely sane) at the time of the Bank of Hanoi mission, that he probably started manifesting the worst of his symptoms upon finding out that his team was being court-martialed in 1972, and that he had probably been referred to several psychiatrists before being committed. If anyone spots a flaw in my reasoning, please feel free to speak up.

Many thanks! ~Shady

* * *

PS: Ten points and a cyber-cookie (Cyber-cookies are the tastiest because they have no calories! You can't have my cyber-Samoas, though.) if you caught the brief Oingo Boingo reference. It's slightly anachronistic, since the song I'm referring to didn't come out until 1990, but the tiny sliver of lyrics blended so well into the sentence that I shrugged and said to myself, "What the hell, it's not like she's making a direct quote."

Here's a hint, it's _not_ from 'Weird Science'.

* * *

Coming up next: Another cameo by the rest of the team and poor Ness suddenly realizes that her 'helpless little loony' has some secrets and a dangerous double-life.

Coming soon: We actually start wrapping this thing up!


	27. Extensive Preparations

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Extensive Preparations

* * *

February 13th

7:22 a.m.

* * *

Several minutes of insistent pounding finally brought an effeminate man to the door.

He peered out at her from under the security chain and blinked sleepily."You were just here yesterday, you can't be out of money already." he said teasingly between yawns, then caught the expression on her face and shut the door to unfasten the chain and let her in. "What's going on?"

Ness was breathing heavily and favoring a stitch in her side. "It's an emergency, Bruce. You know how you and the girls always said that you wanted to get a hold of me long enough to play dress-up?"

"You're finally going to let us put you in a skirt!" He was suddenly wide-awake and clapped his hands together once excitedly. "I'm so proud of you!"

"It needs to be done and it needs to be done now." She briefly outlined the days events, ending with, "I've got to get into that building and this is way over my head."

"Okay, darling, you hop into the shower. Make sure you use the shampoo and conditioner in the purple bottles, keep the conditioner in until I tell you we're ready out here, your hair's a disaster. I'll make some phone calls and pound on a few doors and we'll get this show on the road."

She tackled him with a huge hug and dashed to the back of the apartment.

By the time he finally shouted that he was ready for her to emerge she was fidgeting impatiently, far more ready for action that primping, but she knew that there was no way her plan would work if she looked like something one would find in a back alley.

Taking a deep breath and striding out of the bathroom, self-consciously clad only in an immense and almost sinfully soft towel, she eyed the chaos.

The small apartment was awash with people and enough bizarre odds-and-ends to make up a window display at some fashionable department store. Tall and short, young and old, male and female, a dozen people hurried back and forth while dodging suitcases, over-stuffed shopping bags, boxes, and even one giant blue steamer trunk as they frantically unpacked.

Bruce emerged suddenly, took one look at her deer-in-the-headlights expression, and pulled at her elbow. He led her to a dining room chair that had been placed in the center of the room and whipped a measuring tape from his pocket, wrapping it around her in several places briefly before giving her a gentle shove into the seat. "You just sit back and let us do our magic. This is going to be so much fun! David! Get her hair. Steve, you were right, your stuff's most likely to fit her." She watched him orchestrate for a moment before another towel was thrown around her neck and a pair of hands forced her to look straight ahead.

"Don't move, he says we need to do this fast and I don't want to take off an ear."

She sat motionless and wide-eyed as the sound of scissors added itself to the cacophony and several people hurried up with pieces of clothing, holding them up to her and arguing with each other.

Somewhere between snipping and blow-drying two more people arrived, one of them a big bear of a man with three hat boxes in his arms which stood so high that he had the tuck his chin over the uppermost to keep it from tipping. The other looked like a door-to-door insurance salesman, provided, of course, that your insurance was sold by a man with a waist-length pony-tail and a baby-blue suit so shiny that you could check your reflection in it.

Bruce seemed especially pleased to see the latter. "Oh, thank god, we desperately need those!" he exclaimed, taking a small container from Blue-Suit and rushing over. "David, let me know the second you're done, we have to get these on her or this is never going to work."

"Almost finished," David answered. "This girl had more split ends than any score of people I've styled before. There should be laws against something like this." he stated dolefully as he ran the dryer over a damp patch.

"Alan, get over here with that." ordered Bruce, taking something from him. Ness raised an eyebrow and ignored the heat burning into the back of her head from the whirring blow-dryer. "What is it?" she asked.

"We're going to skip most of you in the interest of time," he said, pulling out a small wand-like object coated with goop, "no one's going to be seeing your legs during this, after all, but I simply have to attack your upper lip." He smeared the paste under her nose and stuck a piece of paper to it. "Give that a second to set."

"This is going to hurt, isn't it?" she growled as the man behind her yanked at her hair.

"There is no beauty without pain."

A few minutes later, as Steve finally proclaimed her well-tressed, the room was filled with a shriek.

One of the bystanders paused for a moment and chuckled. "If she thinks that hurt wait until you put those in." he said, gesturing at Blue-Suit's contribution.

"Why, what are you going to torture me with now?" she asked warily, rubbing gingerly at her upper lip. She peered in as he unscrewed two caps. "Tell me those aren't made of glass."

He held the contact lens case up for inspection. "No, that was the olden days, these are plastic, but they're hard and not your prescription so your world's going to be a little fuzzy and probably rather uncomfortable."

He disappeared into the bathroom to scrub his hands and returned a few moments later, carefully removing one of the lenses from the liquid it swam in. "Tilt your head back, open your eyes wide, and hold on to something."

She tried to follow his directions but kept blinking whenever he got near.

"Look, do you want to go after this guy or not?" he asked impatiently after several failed attempts.

Ness took a deep breath and focused her eyes on the ceiling. "Okay, try again."

When the plastic finally hit her eye she tensed, fingers curling tightly around the arms of the chair, but steeled herself against the urge to blink.

"Okay, give it a try." he said, taking hold of a bottle of eye-drops in his left hand and keeping the right in the air like a surgeon waiting to go back in.

"Hate. Pure hate. How you do stand these things." she complained, rubbing at her temple where a stabbing pain tried to tell her that something wasn't quite right in her world.

"Well, they're not fitted for you, so of course they don't feel right." He leaned over and placed several drops in that eye. "Can you see?"

She squinted one eye and looked through the lens. "Well, I'm not going to be doing any reading with these in, but they'll keep me from tripping over furniture."

"Excellent, that's all we need. Now, get ready for the other one."

"You're going to torture me again? Can't I just get by with one?"

"You don't think they're going to notice you walking around with one eye closed?" he inquired, leaning over her.

She took a deep breath and prepared herself. "Murdock, if this works you owe me big time."

* * *

February 13th

8:42 a.m.

* * *

"Dear sweet baby Jesus, woman, when was the last time you tanned?"

"I'm allergic to sunlight, Bruce, it makes me break out in hives and sing _O Fortuna_ while fighting the urge to feed pigeons and help little old ladies across the street."

Their voices echoed oddly in the bathroom as he tightened the laces along her back even further.

"I thought corsets went out with high-button shoes and tapeworm diets." she grumbled as another lungful of air was forced out of her.

"Well, us boys aren't equipped with child-bearing hips and these things are wonderful for giving the illusion of femininity, especially for those of us with a little chub."

"Do I at least get a bra with this get-up?" she asked, fingering the front of the gown that hung, unzipped, around her as she clutched it to her chest.

"You have one handy that won't show in this dress?" he demanded, yanking at the laces again.

"Ugh. I guess you don't need the support, huh?" she said, glancing at him in the mirror and watching him grin to himself.

"Well, they're great for holding up fake breasts, but the only ones I have here are the kind with shoulder straps and the only dress we've got that fits you is off the shoulder."

"I think 'fits' is a relative term." she grumbled breathlessly.

"Breathe out and suck in your stomach."

"I've been doing that for ten minutes now!"

"Okay, let's try this again." He reached down and slowly worked the zipper up over the back of the corset. "Go ahead and get your breast-eses in there right while I work on the last bit."

She reached in and maneuvered each one into place as he tugged.

"Finally!" he breathed with a sigh of relief.

Ness looked down. "I'm going to fall out of this." she said warningly.

"If you do it'll just add to the distraction we're going to create." joked Bruce. "Besides, Steve always wears it with two condoms filled with jello, and he usually aims for a natural-looking C-cup size. You're a little bigger than what that dress was designed for."

"Yeah," she said dryly, "the puberty fairy had it out for me."

"Personally, I'm envious. Why you hide those I'll never know."

She sneered at him in the mirror. "I'm not exactly hunting for a husband, Bruce. Are we done yet?"

He stepped back against the far wall and looked her over with a critical eye. "I do believe we are. There's a full-length mirror in the hall, you should go take a look."

Feeling extremely confined, and decidedly uncomfortable, Ness carefully made her way into the hallway and stopped dead in front of the mirror.

"Holy crap, my waist goes in instead of out!" she shouted. "I don't think that's ever happened before."

"I told you the corset was a good idea."

"It's not the first time I've been strapped in but I've never worn one so tight. This doesn't even _look_ like me!"

She eyed herself, impressed. The dress was jet black, its slight sheen catching the overhead light as it swept off her shoulders exposing a rather obscene expanse of flesh. It hugged her tightly at her new waistline and then cascaded outwards at the hip, nearly sweeping the floor. Her hair was teased and sprayed into a massive sculpture of dark tresses, swept back from her face. Leaning closer and peering at the fuzzy reflection, she examined her make-up and suddenly frame-less eyes. "Geez, you boys think you used enough eye-shadow? I look like a corpse dressed up for Mardi Gras."

"It's the look right now. Trust us, we know what we're doing."

Ness put a hand over her stomach and took a tentative breath. "Here's hoping I don't sneeze or this entire outfit will explode."

Bruce gave her one last once-over, led her back into the living room, and raised his voice over the babble. "We're just about set, what do we have in the way of shoes?"

"What's her size?" someone shouted from the back of the room.

"Nine-and-a-half." Ness supplied. "Wide if you've got them."

"Okay, I've got all the sizes on these re-marked so that they're easy for us to find. That would be what, a men's seven?" the voice asked.

"That _is_ the men's size, I don't wear girly shoes." Ness answered. "Otherwise it would be an eleven-and-a-half wide."

"That's a girl with big ol' feet." someone snarked from behind her.

"You're going to have one up your ass if you don't shut up." she shot back over her shoulder. "Oh," she added, turning back, "I need something I can run in if I have to, I don't feel like playing Cinderella if things go wrong."

"Okay, no pumps. How about a pair of boots?"

"That'll do." she said. "You have anything over there that fits the bill?"

The owner of the voice finally emerged from the crowd, triumphant. "I sure do, and it's going to turn some heads when you put these babies on!" He held up a pair of knee-high black leather boots with toes so sharp they could puncture concrete and thick three-inch heels. "You're going to be your own Empire State Building in these."

"Brilliant, I always wanted to be six-foot-three and be able to examine every bald spot for miles. You're going to have to put those on me, I can't bend over." she remarked dryly.

As he slipped them over her tights and zipped the sides Ness took in the motley collection of people around her in amazement.

She did a quick head-count, realizing that the crowd had swelled to nearly two-dozen people, half of whom had taken advantage of the time she'd spent wiggling into her dress to slip into their own feminine attire.

They ran the gamut from garishly over-the-top ensembles that left no doubt in anyone's mind that the person inside hadn't been born female to several examples of subtlety that would make any onlooker pause as they tried to determine if they were gazing at a boy or a girl.

The balance of the group remained in regular clothes, mostly jeans and t-shirts, looking relatively clean-cut although a couple of the larger men had changed into something akin to biker gear and now looked rather imposing.

One of the peacocks strode forward on bright orange platform shoes. "I know the Monroe is an all-hours club, but a bunch of us wandering around in broad daylight dressed to the nines is going to look pretty strange. Are you sure this can't wait until after dark when they expect the freaks to go bar-hopping?" he/she asked hopefully.

"I don't think he's got that much time, they've already had him for a couple of hours." Ness answered impatiently. "I appreciate the help and if you want to stay behind that's fine, but I have to go now, there's no way I'm waiting for dark."

"Well then." Bruce raised his voice. "Everyone, you have your missions. Let's hop in our cars and meet at the Monroe Club!"

"Wait, where's my backpack?" Ness asked.

Bruce did a double-take. "Trust me, honey, it doesn't go with your ensemble."

She spotted where it had been tossed into a corner and rushed over, pulling the weighty keyring from the side pocket and unclipping her lockpicks. "I'm not going without some old friends." she said to him, squeezing the picks into the depths of her cleavage.

"Those are gonna fall through." someone muttered.

"This dress is so tight that a microbe couldn't slip down." she tossed defiantly into the crowd. "Okay, let's go."

* * *

February 13th

8:02 a.m.

* * *

At the same time that Ness was fighting the battle to keep her eyes open as shards of plastic were shoved into them, there was another battle of sorts taking place across town in the dank basement of a private club whose upper levels were often frequented by the very rich, the very powerful, and by proxy the very corrupt.

Down on his knees with his hands manacled behind his back Murdock was unable to block the punch he saw being aimed at him. A fist caught him full force in the stomach and he doubled up as much as his restraints would allow.

"I'm going to ask again. Are you going to call your friends off?" said the man attached to the fist, shifting his left hand on the thick pipe that ran along the concrete wall in order to lean even further forward, pushing his face into Murdock's.

"I told you, I don't know what you're talkin' about." his victim answered, panting heavily.

Mr. Fist cast a glance over at his associate at the other end of the room, a slender man with pockmarked skin who was lounging against an old ping-pong table and quietly rifling through the wallet he'd taken earlier from Murdock's pocket. "Are you sure you brought me the right guy? He's been taking this for over an hour now and we've gotten nowhere."

"Oh, it's the right guy." said Mr. Ping-Pong casually, holding up a small card. "Got his driver's license right here, says Murdock in big letters and we found him right where Mr. Halloran said he'd be." He smirked at the license. "Hell of a first name you've got there, buddy, your parents must not have liked you much."

"What else has he got in there?" Mr. Fist asked, stalking up and grabbing the wallet to flip through it himself.

"Oh, tons of stuff. Military ID, expired pilot's license, old ticket stubs, two sticks of chewing gum, and what I'm guessing is a photo of an old girlfriend that looks like somebody took a lighter to it."

"Singed it in a crash, actually." Murdock muttered, smiling. "Though I suppose that's kinda appropriate, she had a habit of makin' messy landings."

Mr. Fist dropped the wallet on the table, strode back to Murdock, and backhanded him. "You'll talk when we want you to talk and shut up when we don't."

Murdock worked his jaw back and forth experimentally. "How do I know which one is which, boss? Do I get cue cards?"

His answer was another backhand followed by Mr. Fist twining his fingers through the back of his hair and yanking hard. "It's easy. You tell us how to find the A-Team. You tell us where they're hiding the idiots who hired them. You tell your friends to back the hell off."

"No cue cards then?" Murdock sounded almost disappointed.

"Let's try this again, Mister Murdock." Mr. Fist said calmly. He shoved the man's face down and brought his knee up forcefully.

When his head was yanked back up again Murdock grinned through the blood that was cascading down over his lips and chin. "Those are nice shoes you've got on, boss. Where'd you get 'em?"

* * *

February 13th

9:16 a.m.

* * *

Seething with impatience and hauling his arm back for yet another volley Mr. Fist was interrupted in his repeated, and thus far futile, attempts to elicit a proper response from Murdock by the crackle of the walkie-talkie on his belt.

He yanked it up to his face. "What?" he growled menacingly.

"It's Mick from security." the voice said. "You wanted to know if anything out of the ordinary happened or anyone tried to get inside."

"Yeah." he responded dryly as Murdock blearily cast him a glance and a bloodily triumphant smile.

"We just had a hell of a fight out front of the building."

Mr. Fist glanced up at his associate. "I thought you said they wouldn't be able to track us for a while?" he whispered angrily, then thumbed the talk button again to ask the security guard, "Wouldn't happen to be three guys, one of 'em some big black asshole with a mohawk?"

Mick sounded like he was trying to stifle his laughter. "Nope, don't recall seeing any mohawks. This was a bunch of dumb-ass faggots who got what they deserved. Ran into a dozen bikers on the street that didn't take kindly to queers. Don't worry, we didn't let any of them inside."

"Good." replied Mr. Fist, breathing a sigh of relief as he watched Murdock's grin fade slightly. "Keep me updated." He hooked the radio back on his belt and smiled darkly at his prisoner before turning back to Mr. Ping-Pong. "Go up and make sure everything's still clear upstairs, then call Adams again and tell him we might need him after all. This one's stubborn."

Mr. Ping-Pong frowned at him. "You sure you want Adams? I thought you still wanted this guy in one piece later in case we needed more leverage."

Shrugging, the larger man answered, "If Adams can get him to cooperate, then fine. If not then we've got one less guy to worry about later."

"Your call." Mr. Ping-Pong said. He slipped through the heavy basement door and hefted it shut behind him as headed towards the stairs to the lobby.

"Guess you'll be with us a little longer." Mr. Fist said pleasantly as he moved toward Murdock once again.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Since no one asked (but I'm not one to leave loose ends), the Oingo Boingo reference in the previous chapter was in the following sentence:

_"Well, yours truly finally escaped from her self-inflicted tomb and hunted down a hot shower."_

The song being ever-so-indirectly referenced is '_Skin_' from the album '_Dark At The End Of The Tunnel_' and the lyrics are as follows:

_Is there anybody in there?_

_In this self-inflicted tomb?_

_If you peel away the layers, is there someone in this room?_

_If you peel away the skin?_

The song is about what you'd find in a person if you stripped away all the facades they put forth in order to exist in society, and I've always loved it because it's not only rife with wonderful lyrics, it's also a beautiful piece of music (Yes, Boingo is more than plastic tubes and pots and pans). Much as I would have adored having Ness somehow reference it directly, this story is set before the song was recorded, however I still wanted include a little nod in its direction. I felt that it was especially apt considering what Ness had just gone through.

Besides... it sounded cool.

* * *

How is it that I can write 8,000 words in twenty-four hours (yes, I timed myself during my last writing binge) and then not be able to come up with anything for two weeks?

Weird muses.

I ended up splitting this chapter into two parts... by the time I'd finished getting Ness looking like a regular human being I barely had time to show what Murdock was up to before this one turned into a small novel on its own!

Hopefully it won't be another two weeks before we get to see how he gets out of there!

I also included a little Murdock-bashing at the request of one of my reviewers. Sometimes we just like to see our favorites get in over their heads.

* * *


	28. The Monroe Club

Chapter 28: The Monroe Club

* * *

February 13th

9:09 a.m.

* * *

Ness put on an air of superiority and practiced her lines in her head in an attempt to drown out her inner voices as she strode elegantly up the steps toward the two men who guarded the doorway.

"Gentlemen," she said without preamble, "my name is Dorian Belner and I have an appointment to meet one of your members for breakfast."

The man on her left, tall with a rather over-sized poof of unruly red hair and a badly trimmed beard looked her up and down and drew his walkie-talkie from his belt. "I'll need to verify that with the member in question. What's his name?"

She raked him with a condescending glare. "He doesn't want to be disturbed by the likes of you, young man. He gave me a guest pass to show at the door so he wouldn't be bothered."

The red-headed man scowled and held out his hand and Ness pulled a black clutch-purse from under her elbow, opened it, and began rifling around inside.

The man at her right chuckled. "Hey, Mick, would you get a load of them." he said to his companion, gesturing at the sidewalk.

Ness stopped rummaging and turned to look over her shoulder. "Oh, for heaven's sake, what is wrong with people today!" she complained loudly, staring at the large and gaudily colored crowd walking past the building.

"Keep goin' you freaks! You should keep that shit off the streets!" shouted Mick.

Several of the people passing looked in their direction and a couple of them had just let loose with wolf-whistles at the two men when a deep and angry voice drifted to them from down the block. "What the fuck? Hey, guys, take a look at the faggots!"

The three people on the steps turned their heads to look at the newcomers, a rough-looking crowd headed in their direction. Several of them were in leather and chains and all of them sported looks of pure hatred.

"Oh crap." muttered Mick as the two groups collided right in front of them.

Ness backed away from the fray as insults were traded and fists began to fly.

She was slammed hard into the heavy wooden doors behind her as a couple of men in dresses tried to dodge blows by leaping up the steps.

"My purse!" she screamed. "I dropped my purse! Give it back to me you heathens!" she shrieked indignantly as she was shoved repeatedly in the confusion.

"Ma'am, get back!" shouted Mick before speaking into his radio. "I need immediate back-up at the front entrance!"

Someone from the crowd reached out and grabbed Ness by the hair, nearly yanking her off her feet, and she screamed shrilly before the dark-haired doorman broke the person's grip and hauled her back, thrusting her through the elegant doorway and into the safety of the lobby as several large men barreled outside and dove into the fight. "Stay there!" he shouted at her and she nodded shakily as he pulled the door shut, blocking her view of the ruckus.

There were several members in the lobby and, along with the desk clerk, they approached the front doors, curious about the noise. Ness quietly let them slide between her and the entrance until she stood at the back of the crowd. Quickly glancing around her, she strode towards a half-open door in the distance and stepped inside, surveying the empty office with satisfaction.

She kept the door cracked open slightly in order to keep an eye on the developments in the lobby and did her best to fix her now-bedraggled hair while smiling to herself.

So far the plan had gone perfectly... now it was just a matter of finding Murdock.

* * *

February 13th

9:18 a.m.

* * *

"Hey, what the hell's going on up here? Where is everybody?"

Ness stared through the crack in the door with wide eyes as she recognized one of the voices she'd heard earlier that morning over her walkie-talkie.

"Big fight out front, you missed all the excitement. Some jerk called the police and you should have seen everybody in the lobby clear out when they heard the sirens." responded a woman she couldn't see as a skinny man with bad skin came into view.

"It's been taken care of?" he asked.

"Yeah, security got everyone separated and sent them packing before the cops even showed up, it's all quiet again outside." she responded.

"Good. What kind of idiots start a fight outside of a place like this anyway? Don't they know we've got the biggest bouncers on the west coast?" he asked, smiling confidently and tipping a smarmy wink at the desk clerk.

"Some people just aren't too smart. They're lucky nobody got hurt." answered the woman.

The man laughed and pushed the 'up' button on the elevator. "Guess that means we don't get to watch the paramedics scrape anyone off the sidewalk. Damn, that would have made my day." The elevator doors opened and he strode in, jabbing at a button on the inside wall.

Ness watched as the doors slid shut and then squinted at the ornate needle moving above the opening. She couldn't read the blurry numbers above it but smiled when it stopped moving, the pointer almost directly vertical.

She waited a few moments until she heard a door open and close out of sight and cautiously peeked around the door frame to check the lobby.

The woman manning the front desk was in an office just behind her station and Ness could see the back of her head through the window as she dug for something in a file cabinet.

Smoothing the front of her dress nervously, Ness squared her shoulders and waltzed through the lobby as if she had every right to be there, striding with assumed confidence to the elevator and pressing the button. She watched the needle drop as the car descended and made note of what floor her quarry had stopped on.

"Gotcha." she whispered to herself as the doors slid open for her.

* * *

February 13th

9:21 a.m.

* * *

"Wow, nice decor." Ness observed quietly, stepping from the elevator onto a lush burgundy carpet.

The hallway that stretched out in both directions was darkly paneled, dimly lit, and the paintings on the wall were exquisite. "Glad I'm not the one paying dues on this place."

She randomly chose to turn left and began listening at doors until she found a room in which she could just make out the sound of someone talking.

"-know we said we wouldn't need you, but this guy's not saying anything." A pause. "Yeah, if that's what has to be done." Another pause. "Okay, we'll see you then. Yes, that's fine! He'll pay up, just get over here he's getting impatient."

There was a faint ringing sound as he slammed down the receiver and Ness stepped to the side of the doorway just as the handle turned and the man stepped into the hallway.

There was a loud cracking noise as she caught him under the jaw with a punch and his head slammed violently into the door. Then he slid, dazed, to thick carpet. She reached down, grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and dragged him inside the office while shoving the door closed behind them as she dropped him to the ground and straddled him, putting her weight on his chest.

"We're going to have a nice little chat, my friend." she hissed angrily through clenched teeth.

The man blinked in surprise, shook off his daze, and tried to reach past her leg into the waistband of his pants, but she slammed her fist into his face and felt around underneath her until her hand closed on the gun pressed between his waist and the floor.

She pulled it out and tossed it gently into a nearby chair. "Now, now, we don't want you playing with that, it's dangerous."

He looked her over suspiciously and gasped, "Who the hell are you?"

She let the light of insanity show in her eyes. "Me? I'm the monster that other monsters are afraid of."

He looked confused. "The hell?"

She shifted her weight and smiled evilly as his struggles to take a breath intensified. "I'm going to make you tell me exactly what I want to hear," she gestured at the gun. "and I don't even need one of your toys to do it."

"You're crazy! You're not even armed."

"I don't need to be." She shifted again, reached up, and plucked two ball-point pens from a holder on the desk. She settled herself back down and eyed her new acquisitions contemplatively. "You've heard that the pen is mightier than the sword, haven't you?" she asked in a decidedly psychotic sing-song voice.

The man watched her silently for a moment, pushing at her fruitlessly, and struggling to breathe against the weight on his chest. "Wh- what?"

"Where's Murdock?" she asked sweetly.

"What's it to you?"

Ness smiled disarmingly just before grasping a pen tightly and shoving it up one of his nostrils as far as it would go. The man let out a sharp bark of pain and she levered her weapon up slightly, twisting, enduring the squirming fight and enraged whimpers of pain beneath her.

"I'm not the most stable of individuals at the best of times, and I'm having a _really_ bad day. Where's Murdock?" she repeated as he tried to pull at her wrists, the lack of oxygen taking the fight out of him as blood began to slowly trickle out of his nose.

"You're too late. We already dumped what's left of him." he growled.

She thrust and twisted the first pen again and let its partner quickly invade the other nostril as he howled.

"If he were already dead you wouldn't have had to call for help. There's a whole cup-full of these things up there, my friend. Are you sure you don't want to tell me the truth?"

He steeled himself and whispered, "Fuck you."

"Have it your way." she answered, and reached up again.

* * *

February 13th

9:38 a.m.

* * *

She cast one last glance at the man on the office floor, passed out in several small pools of blood, wrists and ankles trussed up tightly with tape.

Finally getting him to tell her about Murdock was easy.

Getting him to call his accomplice on the walkie-talkie to lure him on a wild goose-chase around the building was easy.

Wrapping enough layers of clear office tape around a still struggling, albeit weakly, man to keep him from getting himself free within a few minutes and coming after her?

That was hard.

If he was lucky, the doctors would be able to save his hearing in one ear. The other had already been thoroughly sacrificed to the Scripto gods during a moment of blind fury and a slip of her hard-won control.

Ducking into the stairwell at the end of the hallway she breathed a shaky sigh of relief that he'd started talking before she'd been forced to start working on his eyes.

Even she had her limits. Despite the cacophony of noise rolling relentlessly through her mind, screaming for blood and pain and violence, the thought of puncturing the globes with an ink-filled writing utensil made her nauseous.

She ran down the steps, then stopped to listen at the first landing to make sure no one was coming up toward her.

He'd already informed her that the elevators were for guests and only descended to the level of the lobby. The man's accomplice should have been well gone by now, trying in vain to locate the man she'd just left behind, and she slowly walked down until she came to a door set below ground level.

She heard nothing and braced herself, pulling hard on the heavy door until it swung open with a creak.

* * *

February 13th

9:41 a.m.

* * *

Murdock breathed heavily, wincing at the sharp aches that flashed their way through him with each breath.

When the door creaked open he barely lifted his head and waited to see if it would be friend or foe that stepped into the room.

"Colonel?" he forced out with a tight whisper.

A woman stepped gingerly into the room and shut the door behind her and he tried to blink the blood out of his eyes as the realization sunk in that this was neither the thugs who had been keeping him here nor his friends.

He tried to put on a nonchalant demeanor despite his well-worn appearance. "Um, ma'am, I know this looks bad, but I don't suppose you could look around for a set of handcuff keys for me?" he ventured.

"Holy shit, kid, what the hell did they do to you?!?" the woman hissed as she ran up to him and kneeled on the concrete floor to examine a large gash on his forehead.

"Ness?" he asked, perplexed, trying to clear his vision. "What are you doin' here? You're gonna get yourself killed!"

"I'm doing a hell of a lot better than you are right now." she eased him forward to inspect the cuffs.

"Where are the guys?"

"No clue."

"You're here _alone_?!?"

"I tried to call for help, but the police just laughed at me." She reached into her cleavage and worked her lockpicks free. "Hold still, let's get you out of here."

"I'd have been long gone by now by they took my picks when they searched me." Murdock said, leaning far forward to give her space and gesturing with his chin at the small pile of personal effects on the ping-pong table.

She grumbled something under her breath behind him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, trying to crane his neck to look at her.

"These are weird. I can't get them open." she squirmed behind her even further and tried from a different angle, growling to herself. "What are these? I think there's an extra catch on them or something!"

Ness pulled herself to her feet in irritation and tried to run a hand through her hair exasperatedly, then scowled.

"I can't pick the lock, that guy's gonna be back any minute, and I'm covered in hairspray!" she shrieked. Ness stalked across the room, grabbed a chair, and returned to slam it violently against the wall at Murdock's side before stepping onto it.

Murdock eyed her warily and tried to calm her down. "Ness, give me the picks, maybe I can get it."

"No." She stepped from the chair onto the water pipe. "You." she yelled at the pipe as she put her full weight on it. "Are." Another stomp. "Coming." A jump that nearly sent her crashing back to the floor. "Loose!" she screamed as she braced her back against the wall and pushed with all of her might.

One end of the pipe suddenly plunged to the floor and she sprawled onto the concrete as water began pouring down around her.

Ness pushed herself onto her hands and knees and smirked triumphantly at the loose piping. "One thing about older buildings." she said conversationally. "Crappy maintenance."

Murdock slid himself along the wall and slipped loose from the pipe, then stood as the water drenched his black high-tops. "We need to go."

"I'm all for that plan." she answered, peeling herself off the floor and dashing for the table to grab his wallet before running over and grasping the knob and pushing on the door.

"Oh no. No no no." she whined, shoving again.

A muffled voice came to them from the other side. "Sounds like you've sprung a leak."

Ness and Murdock shared a look of horror. "Open this door right now or I'm going to hunt you down and serve you your own testicles on a silver platter!" shouted Ness at the unseen newcomer.

Mr. Fist's voice carried a hint of a chuckle. "Lady, I don't know who you are, but I've seen what you can do with office supplies and I'm sure you'd be happy to slice me up. However, my partner needs a doctor, so I've really got to go."

Ness pounded on the door vehemently for several moments, shouting obscenities, then pressed her ear to it and listened to the silence.

"I... am... going... to... kill... that... guy." she growled through clenched teeth before focusing on Murdock. "There any other way out of here?"

Murdock glanced around the small room. "Not unless you can tunnel through the ceiling into the lobby." He gave her an appraising look. "Office supplies?"

"I followed a skinny guy with a face like a train wreck earlier and got him to tell his partner that he was in trouble on the roof by shoving pens up his nose."

Murdock guffawed. "That's... inventive." he paused. "His partner was armed, do you think you could shoot out the lock?" he nodded at the door.

"I left his gun in the office."

Murdock raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "You didn't take his gun?"

"I've never used one! I'd be more likely to shoot my own foot than hit a target."

Sloshing through the knee-high water, Murdock approached the door. "The two of us together, on three. One. Two. Three!"

The door didn't budge.

"Again. One. Two. Three!"

By the time the water was waist-high they'd given up a frontal assault and they were searching through the random odds and ends stored in the room for anything they could wedge between the door and the frame to try and force the lock.

"This is just going to be one of those days when nothing goes right, isn't it?" Ness muttered quietly.

Murdock grinned at her. "My nose finally stopped bleeding." he offered.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Great, I'm locked in a room with Pollyanna."

* * *

February 13th

10:11 a.m.

* * *

Ness closed her mouth and exhaled sharply to clear her nostrils as water lapped at her cheekbones. Casting a glance at Murdock she suddenly gave up on her efforts on the door and grabbed him by the front of his jacket.

"You should have let me know that your nose was under water!" she growled.

She hefted him against her and up slightly, taking advantage of the few inches of extra height her boots afforded her to keep both of their faces above the rising water line.

Murdock sputtered for a moment. "I couldn't, my nose was underwater." he joked.

"We're in serious kimchi, kid. This gets much deeper and I'm going to have to start swimming and we're going to have one hell of a time keeping you afloat with your hands behind you."

Glancing around the room her eyes settled on the ping-pong table half-floating in the far corner and she slowly made her way towards it, reaching out to shove it back under the surface until the legs hit bottom, and then helped Murdock maneuver onto it before climbing up herself.

There was still several feet of breathable air near the ceiling, but the room was filling fast.

"You stay here, I'm going to go work on the door a-" she was cut off by a muted rumble in the distance. She looked around her. "Please tell me that's not an earthquake. The last thing we need is to drown _and_ have a building fall on us."

Murdock wasn't paying attention to her, his eyes were unfocused as he listened. Another muted rumble reached their ears and now they could just make out a series of pops that sounded suspiciously like gunfire.

Murdock's eyes lit up and he grinned at Ness. "That, little girl, sounds suspiciously like the cavalry's arrived!"

Barely a minute later there was a muted thump at the door and suddenly the water level jumped downward as a torrent rushed into the hallway outside to thoroughly flood the rest of the basement.

Murdock and Ness slid off the table and into the now knee-high water as three men pushed their way into the room, covering the corners with automatic weapons.

A silver-haired man approached them quickly, his eyes and weapon trained on Ness. "Captain, you okay?"

"Never been better, Colonel. Glad you could join the party."

"Halloran led us on a wild-goose-chase across half of L.A. before we cornered him and got him to talk. With a little persuasion from B.A." he added, grinning around a soggy cigar. He gestured at the woman. "Who are you?" he asked suspiciously.

"Colonel, this is Ness. She's a friend." Ness nodded at him as he lowered his weapon and then she cast a glance around the room. The blond man was keeping watch at the door and now the man with the mohawk was approaching them.

Murdock shifted uncomfortably and shot a glance at Mohawk. "Hey, B.A., I don't suppose you could help your ol' buddy get his arms back?" he said, turning to show off the cuffs that still pinned his hands behind him.

Mohawk grunted, stepped up, examined the manacles, and then wrapped his large hands around them to either side of one of the loops that attached to chain to the cuffs. Ness saw the strain in his face as he pulled and in the next moment Murdock was swinging his arms in front of him and rolling his shoulders to work out the stiffness as what was left of the chain clanked against one cuff.

"Thanks big guy, you're the best set of lockpicks a fella could ask for!" Murdock grinned widely and made as if to give Mohawk a hug, but the man backed away, growling something about 'never having let the fool loose'.

Ness watched, fascinated, as the SilverHair started issuing orders to the group. Her fascination increased as she noticed the change in her friend.

The happy-go-lucky manner slid away, his eyes hardened, and his usual devil-may-care demeanor was replaced with a quiet seriousness that she'd never seen before.

Still soaked from head to toe. Still wearing a t-shirt whose front was covered in his own blood. Still the same Murdock she'd known for all of these months. Yet... not.

This wasn't the helpless fool from the V.A., some hopeless little boy trapped in a man's body, some kid she had to keep an eye on lest he wander off and get himself into trouble.

This Murdock was focused. In control. And she had the feeling that if they met up again with the men who'd kidnapped him... dangerous.

Blond tossed him a weapon and he hoisted it confidently, moving through the door at a signal from SilverHair as though all the injuries he'd recently sustained were nothing but a distant memory.

SilverHair paused in the doorway, shin-deep in water, and extended his hand to her. "You coming or not?"

Ness, wide-eyed, splashed determinedly after them.

* * *

Author's Notes:

2000 hits and counting!

Woo hoo!

*happy dances*

I love my readers!

* * *

A big welcome redrose7856, my latest reviewer!

I worked in a little B.A. beat-down for you, even if it was off-screen.

You can just imagine the damage B.A. did to Halloran when they finally caught up with the bastard who set up the kidnapping!

* * *

This chapter (including the previous 'half') were really interesting to write because it was the _one_ chapter that I didn't have anything written for in advance.

In the outline I simply had the title _The Monroe Club_ (the name was one of those 'randomly sprang to mind' things and as far as I know there is no Monroe Club in Los Angeles) and it stated that "_Murdock gets kidnapped by the bad guys, taken to the club, Ness has to figure out how to get in to try and rescue him, the team shows up and takes care of things._".

All I knew at that point was that the previous chapter was going to end with the line about drag queens (another of those 'randomly sprang to mind' things which I decided that I liked and wanted to use somewhere) and I hadn't, in fact, even decided yet if Ness was going to finally meet the rest of the team during this story or just watch them pull off the rescue that she'd bungled.

It dawned on me that if there was one chapter that was going to kick my ass and possibly make me stop writing this fic (or at least scrap the ending and re-work it), this was it.

It turned out that I needn't have worried.

I finally bit the bullet, opened a page to start typing, and the words just flowed.


End file.
